Beautiful Stranger
by priyajasmine
Summary: AU On the surface, they're bent on making each other's lives hell, but beneath the façade, it's an entirely different story…sparks of attraction, undercover intrigue, unavoidable feelings, and enough thunderous surprises to make their heads spin! Note: U
1. Introductions

More Happy Endings  
  
Cotillions, ball gowns, chandeliers, jewelry-- the stuff of life, at   
  
least, the stuff of my life before Darien entered it. How could I have  
  
known that the simple incident of two people crashing into each other  
  
in more ways than one) could have results far beyond mutual feelings  
  
of great irritation and a bruised head?  
  
  
  
I was a 'good child,' according to my parents. I did what was expected  
  
of any 15-year-old girl- I attended Madame Finch's School for Young   
  
Ladies and did fairly well, not receiving top marks, but ones that   
  
couldn't be complained about anyhow.   
  
This thrilled my parents; you see, they were of the very popular   
  
belief, opposed by few like Madame Finch, that ladies must be   
  
educated, but only enough to be useful to their husbands; everyone knew  
  
that a 'brainy' girl would simply never catch a husband. So, in that  
  
respect, I was perfect. I was very skilled at all the important aspects   
  
of a girl's life- dancing, singing, playing the organ, and the most   
  
essential, etiquette.   
  
  
  
So then why was I so miserable? The answer should have been obvious   
  
to all around me, but it wasn't. Almost everyone turned a blind eye  
  
and deaf ear to my pleas to go hunting with Richard, Theo and the rest  
  
of the boys; my begging to go fishing on the Thames, and to bet on the   
  
monthly horse races were not ignored, however. They were greeted by   
  
many a shocked exclamation or occasionally a swoon on the part of my   
  
mother.   
  
Sensible as I was, I never really tried to rebel or go out and do what  
  
I wanted- I knew far too well that flippancy and disobedience were   
  
tolerated about as much as farm animals within our peerless monstrosity   
  
of a mansion. So, I would beg, be refused, and quietly obey without so   
  
much as a "But, Mother...".   
  
  
  
Thus, I plodded along, always feeling that something was missing in   
  
my life, something big, but not being very aware of just what that   
  
something was. I suppose I have Darien to thank for helping me find it,  
  
although at first I was hard-pressed to find anything at all to be   
  
grateful for, where he was concerned.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
I ran inside the house infuriated by Theo's taunting- was it my fault   
  
I was a "young lady" and couldn't go out and wade in the lake with him   
  
and the others? I had certainly no choice in the matter; if I had, he   
  
could be sure I would have been a boy, and one much manlier and stronger  
  
than him at that.   
  
Now, though, I was hoping against hope that no one had seen me give him   
  
that resounding slap across the face; he had undoubtedly deserved it, but  
  
this excuse would probably not go over very well with Father. I turned   
  
back for one more look at the imprint my hand had made on his face.   
  
Satisfied by his stunned countenance, I spun around once again to dash   
  
into my room and promptly collided with a very hard torso.  
  
Tears sprung to my eyes as I staggered backwards and hit the ground, for   
  
while my three petticoats, pantalets, and lace-bedecked gown were very  
  
attractive and elaborate, they were also entirely incapable of protecting   
  
my rear end from the many falls and trips that resulted from my inborn  
  
gaucherie. Through a haze of pain, I glanced up at my attacker, who   
  
looked as if he were about nineteen years old. He was gazing at me   
  
with a look of unrepentant amusement on his face. Then, sobering,   
  
he assisted me to rise.   
  
"I'm deeply sorry, I hope you aren't hurt," he said. I was uncertain of  
  
what he was thinking, but wished I knew, for there was an undertone   
  
of humor in his apology. I studied his features as nonchalantly as   
  
possible, noting his strikingly handsome appearance, the sort of face   
  
one couldn't easily forget- thick ebony black hair, of which a few   
  
strands fell casually over his forehead and blue eyes, or maybe   
  
they were green, I couldn't quite tell.   
  
"I am not, fortunately. Thank you, sir, I appreciate your apology," I   
  
said uncertainly, knowing how artificial my words must sound.  
  
"No, I think you misunderstand me. I meant that I am deeply sorry   
  
girls' seminaries seem to spend more time teaching how to attract men  
  
than how to protect said men from being run over."   
  
I felt my face grow very hot, and, shaking, I said, "With all due respect,  
  
sir, it takes two people to cause a collision like the one we just had,   
  
so I think it highly improbable that I am the sole culprit." Who did he   
  
think he was anyway, waltzing in here and talking to me like that? At   
  
that moment, I was strongly inclined to repeat my previous behavior with  
  
Theo but for some reason, I felt that this time, with this opponent, I   
  
just might not get away with it.   
  
"Well, miss, I would enjoy nothing more than to stay here and take you   
  
down another peg or two from your exalted position," he said, chuckling  
  
lightly, "but I am afraid time does not permit. And might I suggest,  
  
in the future, that you try keeping your eyes in the same direction   
  
that your feet are going, so as to avoid future such embarrassments.   
  
Good evening to you," he finished with a jovial smile. He bowed with   
  
exaggerated courtesy and walked towards my father's study.  
  
I stalked up the stairs to my room, furious that I had been thus made a   
  
fool of; at the same time, however, I wondered who the young man was and  
  
almost wished to see him again--after I had figured out how to return   
  
his volley of insults, of course. I started to think of biting little   
  
remarks I could make, should I ever happen to meet him again, and it was  
  
with these thoughts that I felt into a deep slumber.  
  
I woke up the next morning, and Luna told me that my father wished to   
  
see me in his office as soon as I had eaten breakfast. I obliged, and   
  
finished my breakfast of poached eggs, some soft rolls with orange   
  
marmalade, oatmeal with sweet cream and kippers, without really tasting   
  
any of it, due to my consternation that my striking Theo hadn't gone   
  
entirely unnoticed.  
  
My fears were needless, and my father gave me a kindly smile when I   
  
joined him in his office. He was a rotund, jolly man, a few inches   
  
shorter than me, with cheeks that were permanently stained a bright   
  
red. He loved to eat, drink and make merry, and my mother was wont   
  
to say that he cared more about his horses than he did about his family.   
  
This was untrue; he was a caring and dutiful parent, though not such a  
  
good judge of character.   
  
He almost always gave me the benefit of the doubt but had a very bad   
  
temper, and did not hesitate to raise his voice to unnecessarily high   
  
levels at the slightest provocation. In all, he was basically a very   
  
sweet, blustering old dear, and we were all incredibly fond of him.   
  
I entered the room, wondering what had happened to cause this sort   
  
of meeting, which was quite rare.  
  
"Darien Shields, I would like to present my daughter, Serenity.   
  
Serenity, this is Mr. Shields, your new tutor."  
  
"P-pleased to meet you, Mr. Shields, I'm sure." I curtsied, wobbling a   
  
little from the shock of this sudden development. It was the same young   
  
man I had met the night before. And he was now to be my tutor? Well,   
  
our first meeting had certainly not been one to portray me in a very   
  
favorable light. Why the new plan? I thought they were happy with   
  
everything at school. This could only mean trouble. I had been able to   
  
get away with a great deal at Finch's because there were so many of us,   
  
but with such personal instruction, I'd probably wouldn't be able to   
  
continue carving interesting words (interesting because I often   
  
overheard Jimmy using them in the stables and they didn't sound very c  
  
ivilized) into my chair, and worse, I might have to actually start paying attention.   
  
On the other hand, from the looks of him, that might not be so difficult,   
  
a taunting little voice in my head said. I did my best to ignore the   
  
voice, as it seemed to land me in deep water more often than not.   
  
"The pleasure is entirely mine, Miss Tsukino, I assure you," said the   
  
blue-eyed young man, a hint of an Irish brogue apparent in his tone,   
  
as he bowed over my hand, winking almost imperceptibly. I was completely  
  
taken aback. Had he really winked or was the surprise of the whole   
  
situation playing tricks on my eyes? As he straightened, I realized by   
  
the twinkle in his eyes that he had, and I smiled inwardly. If I had to   
  
be burdened with private tuition, it was undoubtedly going to be rather   
  
interesting, and this was a slight consolation as I graced up the stairs  
  
to prepare for my first lesson.  
  
An hour later, we sat in my father's study, alone. Leaning lazily against  
  
the desk, he interrogated me about what I had done so far at Madame   
  
Finch's, and watched expressionlessly as I recited a Shakespeare sonnet,  
  
stumbling along the way a few times, wrote and translated a passage in   
  
Latin from Virgil with my awful penmanship, sang an aria, and played a   
  
Bach prelude. Then, because the first few times apparently hadn't been   
  
enough, he startled me again.  
  
"I'll wager you hated every minute of that, didn't you?" he said casually,   
  
with a knowing smile.  
  
Immediately infuriated by his calm, smug self-assurance, I vehemently said,  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. What put such an idea in your head?" How was he   
  
able to read me like that? It was uncanny and decidedly unsettling.  
  
"Well, who wouldn't know it from the mechanical manner of the entire  
  
performance? And then, of course, your rage at being found out is a   
  
complete give-away. I see one of the things I'll have to teach you is   
  
to not be quite so transparent."  
  
I had difficulty finding my voice, becoming temporarily transfixed with a  
  
fit of rage. Nevertheless, I managed to stop sputtering, and calmed down  
  
a little, before letting him have it. Impudent cad.  
  
  
  
"Transparent! How dare you? I most certainly am not and I'll thank you   
  
to keep a civil tongue in your head." What was Father thinking when he  
  
hired this young man? Well, he can be sure to rethink whatever it was   
  
once I've spoken to him.  
  
"I'm truly sorry if I've offended you," he said, suddenly becoming serious   
  
and deferential, "I've acquired a very bad habit over the years..." his   
  
voice trailed off and I noticed his eyes brimming with amusement.  
  
"Yes, a very bad habit of what?" I inquired tentatively, with a faint   
  
idea of what was coming.  
  
"...of telling the truth, something most people don't want to hear."   
  
He burst out laughing at the look of absolute fury apparent on my   
  
probably crimson face.  
  
"Relax. I should warn you from the first that I am also in the habit of  
  
uttering sharp witticisms at every available opportunity, and seeing that   
  
you don't seem to be able to respond to them, other than to puff up and   
  
look angry, I shall try to go a little easier on you."  
  
He grinned amusedly, clearly very pleased with himself, and I was thrown   
  
off balance for a moment by the power of that smile. But only for a   
  
fraction of a moment, mind you.  
  
"Ha! Don't trouble yourself. I don't normally deal with such insolence   
  
on a daily basis, so it will be refreshingly new and if you will allow me  
  
some time, I can assure you that I will catch up very quickly," I said,  
  
thrusting my chin upward defiantly. I wasn't sure if the 'very quickly'  
  
part of statement was entirely true, but after all, the most important   
  
thing was to keep up the strong front, right?  
  
"Well, I must say, I do admire your spirit and your honesty. I shall try   
  
not to change at least those aspects of your character, as I think I will   
  
have to change everything else," he said, his voice tinged with mirth.   
  
"Hmph! Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Shields, in thinking I will allow you  
  
to change anything about me whatsoever," I replied a little haughtily,   
  
with a tone signalling that our conversation was at an end.  
  
"I don't recall saying you would allow me to change you; quite the   
  
contrary, in fact, I see that it will take a great deal of time and   
  
patience on my part to do so, but I expect a very good reward from it."  
  
Evidently, he had not caught onto the signal, or was deliberately   
  
ignoring it. Probably the latter, I thought ruefully.   
  
"I hope you don't think I am overwhelmed with curiosity as to what   
  
that 'reward' is, for I don't care," I said rather primly, "Personally,  
  
I think, like many others, you are all show and no substance, you just  
  
like to listen to yourself talk."  
  
"Interesting, as I was just on the point of saying that about you, Miss  
  
Tsukino," he said with a low chuckle that was slightly unsettling,   
  
though I hadn't any idea why this should be so. "And as for the reward,  
  
I think you will find out what it is soon enough; we both know you are   
  
very curious as to what it is, there's no point in denying it."  
  
I smiled sarcastically, and said "Touché. And it's Serena. I am hardly   
  
old enough to properly suit 'Miss Tsukino,' or 'Serenity,' for that   
  
matter."  
  
"As you like it then, Serena. And Darien, here, for the same reason,"  
  
he agreed, impatiently smoothing back a few strands of ebony hair from  
  
where   
  
they had fallen across his forehead.  
  
"Lovely. Well then, Darien, let's set a few things straight from the   
  
start, shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions   
  
about me. I was entirely unaware that my father was planning to pull   
  
me out of school to be taught by a private tutor. As you can probably   
  
tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean that I get even   
  
more personalized nagging, berating and scolding to keep me in line and  
  
make me into a lady," I said scornfully, slowly gaining momentum.   
  
"Since there really is no one to take my displeasure out on besides   
  
you, from this point onward you can try your utmost to be courteous,   
  
gentle and unobtrusive if you want any consideration at all out of me.  
  
And most of all, STAY OUT OF MY WAY!"   
  
I rose from the piano bench as I said the last bit, in hopes that it   
  
Would make my words all the more impressive, and finished my speech   
  
with a mock-curtsy. There, now let's see what Mr. High-and-Mighty   
  
has to say to that. Maybe I was a little too hard on him, he's   
  
probably tongue-tied, poor bloke, bet he's never witnessed an   
  
outburst like that before.   
  
I couldn't have been more wrong.  
  
"Are you quite finished, my little princess?" he drawled calmly, as a  
  
shadow of that arrogant smile reappeared on his face. I nodded slowly;  
  
he hadn't put any emphasis on the last few words at all, but something  
  
told me that he didn't exactly mean them as a compliment. Actually,   
  
they couldn't have been more insulting if he had just said what he meant-   
  
that I was a disgustingly spoiled brat.  
  
"Lovely. Well then, let's set a few things straight from the start,   
  
shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions about me.   
  
I was entirely unaware that my new client was planning on pitting me   
  
against a pompous, self-righteous child like you. As you can probably   
  
tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean more headaches   
  
and more immaturity than I care to contend with. Since there really is  
  
no one to take my displeasure out on besides you, from this point   
  
onward you can try your utmost to be attentive, respectful and demure   
  
if you want any consideration at all out of me. And most of all, keep   
  
your wits about you....that is, if you've got any."  
  
Oh my. How does he manage to make my words more impressive when they   
  
come out of his mouth? This one's sharp, no doubt about that. Ugh, I   
  
can't think like that- I've never surrendered before, and I better not   
  
start now.  
  
"Yet another fault- absolutely no originality. Father's a darling, but   
  
he really doesn't seem to notice when something's amiss in those he   
  
hires- namely human intelligence."  
  
With a velvety laugh, he walked over to me and kissed my hand once   
  
again. As he straightened, I realized with a start just how close we   
  
were. What was he doing?  
  
"This will be quite a battle- actually, no, more like a full-fledged   
  
war, seeing as we're both equally stubborn, blunt and determined to get  
  
what we want. But make no mistake, I will take you on and I play to   
  
win. After all, don't they always say 'All's fair in love and war?'"   
  
he asked softly, and for some unimaginable reason, I shivered- whether   
  
out of apprehension or excitement, I surely don't know.   
  
Much to my distress, my shiver was not lost on him, for he cracked a   
  
positively diabolical grin and said, "That ought to do it for   
  
'introductions,'I suppose, unless you have another bombastic oration to present?"  
  
I still couldn't quite speak.   
  
"I didn't think so. Well, we start lessons tomorrow, 8 o'clock, don't   
  
be late. You will bring your Latin, mathematics, literature and Roman   
  
history books."  
  
Ironically, his last statement jolted me out of my shocked silence, and   
  
I croaked out, "I do hope you mean 8 o'clock in the evening, n'est-ce   
  
pas?"  
  
" Good one. No, my dear, I mean 8 o'clock in the bright, beautiful   
  
morning. Seems as though the first thing I shall be curing you of is   
  
unabashed laziness. Until tomorrow!" he said as he turned away from me.  
  
Then, just as I was about to storm out fuming, he turned around and   
  
remarked, "Oh, and by the way, as you seem to have an affinity for   
  
French, see if you can figure out what this means; it may very well take  
  
all night, but I'd like to know first thing in the morning what I mean   
  
when I say, 'Laissez les jeux commencer.'"   
  
"Oh, I know perfectly well what you mean, as the same thought occurred   
  
to me right when my father introduced you. And for your kind information,  
  
Mr. Darien Shields, the games have already begun!"  
  
And with that I stomped out of the study and ran up the stairs to my room.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Lunch was quite uneventful; to my great displeasure, my mother had   
  
invited Darien to eat with us, and I was informed that he would be   
  
joining us for every meal thereafter. Father and Mother had a cheerful  
  
conversation with their newest employee, and it was obvious that they   
  
both liked him a great deal- no surprise there, as he was being very   
  
charming, but somehow managing to seem very natural and easy about it.   
  
By way of making small-talk, Mother asked what he had done and where   
  
he had lived before he came here, but he managed to politely, and almost  
  
imperceptibly, discourage this topic by engaging her in a discussion   
  
about the cotillion we had attended a few nights before. I simply ate   
  
without making eye contact with anyone and when my mother told me   
  
sharply to stop sulking and that young ladies who looked so sullen would   
  
never find someone to marry them, I was hard-pressed to swallow my anger   
  
at the expression on Darien' face.   
  
I spent my afternoon lying on the pink eiderdown quilt covering my bed,   
  
thinking. There was clearly more to Darien than met the eye and without   
  
actually realizing it, I wanted to know more about him. Who was he?   
  
Where did he come from? His ordinary clothing belied his aristocratic  
  
features, making it nearly impossible to figure out whether he was   
  
truly of noble blood, or just a common man from one of the nearby   
  
provinces. There was definitely a light Irish accent when he spoke,   
  
and yet I could have sworn that there was something very Italian, or   
  
maybe it was Spanish, about his face- where could he be from?  
  
Some of my friends, well, rather, peers at Madame Finch's had left the  
  
school for private tuition and from what I heard, their tutors were   
  
obsequious young men, who eagerly presented their oh-so-slightly   
  
embellished credentials and would do just about anything short of   
  
jumping onto the desk and doing a jig (which, it was whispered in the   
  
hall, one fellow actually did at the request of my friend Mina) to   
  
insure the satisfaction of their pupils. From what I could deduce, their   
  
attitude was something like, "Keep a smile on the little princess's face,  
  
which in turn will keep a smile on Daddy's face, he'll fork over the   
  
bullion, and that will keep a smile on my face! Everyone is happy,   
  
everyone wins!"   
  
Lucky me, of course, I had ended up with an instructor who looked   
  
perfectly capable of making me a complete sycophant in order to please  
  
him, rather than the other way around. I suppose in a way it was   
  
somewhat nice that I hadn't been blessed with a blithering fool who   
  
would stammer out "Yes miss!" and "No miss!" at my every command;   
  
above all else, I loved a challenge, and I had a feeling that I had   
  
finally gotten one. I just hoped fervently that I wasn't in over my   
  
head-"I will take you on, and I play to win-" there was something   
  
ominous and yet exciting in those words he had spoken and they baited  
  
me into swearing that I would keep constant vigilance and never be   
  
without a smart response to what he said or did.   
  
  
  
Having made my resolution about how to deal with Darien, I took to   
  
reading Ivanhoe, one of my all-time favorite novels. Adventure, bravery,  
  
war and loyalty- the elements which comprised every book worth reading.  
  
I had already pored over it several times, always skipping past the   
  
romantic, sappy nonsense which I found tedious and Madame Finch's other   
  
protégés usually found "utterly divine and so sweet." It usually took   
  
all of my self-control to keep joining Raye in making tart remarks about   
  
how they really ought to at least try making their incredible vapidity a  
  
little less obvious. I had learned the hard way, namely losing my   
  
afternoon meal as punishment for insolence, that filling my stomach had   
  
priority over displaying my contempt for the other girls' empty heads.   
  
I don't think I was entirely cynical and mean, though; I couldn't bear  
  
to witness pain or sorrow, whether it was a human or animal experiencing  
  
it and this usually became quite obvious to others within a few days of  
  
meeting me. I had a few close friends at Madame Finch's, and we   
  
generally kept to ourselves, but if there were only four or five, I never   
  
noticed, for the ones I did have were the best a girl could ask for. 


	2. Affair w Stairs & Where did he go?

Thanks for all your reviews guys!! Please keep reading and reviewing-   
  
and remember, if something bugs ya, say so. This is a little on the   
  
long side, but enjoy!! Oh, and an important note: the PoV (point of   
  
view) changes in this chapter so watch out and pay attention!! If ya   
  
skim, ya might miss it, so like Serena--- constant vigilance!! (Hmm,   
  
isn't that reminiscent of someone from yet another fantasy, with a magic  
  
eye??)  
  
But to more pressing matters, I still had to figure out a specific way   
  
to make Darien realize that I played to win, too- he seemed to think   
  
he'd get away with his snide remarks and I'd be helpless and unable to   
  
dish out anything to match his barbs. How to convince him that even a   
  
"little princess" a foot shorter than him could fight right back? How?   
  
How??  
  
Well, whoever it was that said you can fix any problem with enough   
  
concentration needs a good slap upside the head- the harder I   
  
concentrated, the more impossible it seemed that I could come up with  
  
any victory, how ever short-lived, against someone as sharp as him.   
  
And then, epiphany! It is quite amazing, really, how the strangest   
  
things can give you inspiration. In my case, it was the dinner bell.   
  
I quickly changed my plain gray gown for one that Luna always sighed   
  
over and complimented me fervently. It was very cheery and attracted   
  
attention while allowing me to retain my modesty- a light shade of pink  
  
with sunshine yellow ruffles and a neckline that, while not plunging,   
  
hinted at my assets just enough for...well....I think you get the general  
  
idea. I figured I might as well catch Mr. I'm-too-cocky-and-handsome-  
  
for-my-own-good Shields' eye while playing my games, though just why I   
  
wanted that sort of attention from him, I didn't quite know. Just keep  
  
telling yourself that, darling, you know perfectly well why you want it,  
  
and more. Ugh, that voice- what I would not do to simply stamp it out   
  
for good! And yet, like a thorn in my side, it popped up with annoying   
  
exuberance whenever I tried to deny what I really thought. I firmly   
  
shoved it back to the far recesses of my mind, where it belonged,   
  
straightened the pink bows around my two buns, and walked downstairs   
  
with all the pomp and grace of a queen.  
  
THUD!   
  
Perhaps I should have been a little more specific. Perhaps I should   
  
have said- "and walked downstairs with all the pomp and grace of a   
  
queen until I tripped over the broken stair half way down and rolled   
  
the rest of the way down after trying to regain my balance and failing  
  
miserably."   
  
I landed at the foot of the staircase on my rear with the skirt of my   
  
gown completely over my head and my petticoats revealed for all and   
  
sundry. Oh please, I'm sorry I stuck my tongue out at Richard last   
  
Sunday at church, God, truly sorry, but please, do know I believe in   
  
you with all my heart, especially right now, and with that in mind,   
  
please do not let...  
  
"Well, hello Serena. You certainly look stunning this evening, well   
  
that is, your undergarments look stunning, and I'm sure your lovely   
  
countenance does as well, although it is hard to be certain, what with   
  
that skirt covering it. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't skirts   
  
meant to be worn on your lower half, not your upper? Ah well, probably  
  
just the latest fashion- it's so hard to keep up with fashions of today."  
  
...him see me like this. Lovely, just wonderful. And if it's not too   
  
much to ask right now, God, with all my other pending requests- DO YOU   
  
THINK YOU COULD REQUEST A REDWOOD COFFIN ON MY BEHALF? I'd do it myself,  
  
but seeing as I'm currently dying of humiliation...  
  
"Hello yourself, Darien. I agree, it is definitely very hard to keep   
  
up with modern fashion- no wonder you're 50 years behind it.," I replied   
  
vehemently, as I violently pulled my skirt down and stood up, gathering   
  
the shreds of my dignity together.   
  
"The soul of wit, even under the most pressing of circumstances. Need   
  
some help there, princess?" he asked, grinning.  
  
"I'm quite alright, thank you. Had you simply helped me up without   
  
shoving your foot in your mouth, like any other man would do in your   
  
situation, I might have reconsidered my intense dislike for you. But   
  
you went right ahead and forced your entire leg in that gaping maw of   
  
yours, and now have my certified hate. Congratulations!" I finished   
  
with false cheer, and stormed into the dining room.  
  
How dare he! And to think I could have wanted the attentions of such   
  
a boor! I sat down in my usual seat at the dining table, taking care   
  
to first knock Sammy on the head for that oh-so-satisfying "Serenaaaaaa!!"   
  
Ah, the glory of having a younger brother who was old enough to beat up   
  
on without being called a bully, and yet young enough so that said   
  
beatings-up were still effective. The way I saw it, I needed some sort  
  
of concession for the disaster that had just occurred. As it was, I   
  
doubted I would be forgetting the humiliation of falling down the   
  
staircase anytime soon. And all this before I could even get my plans  
  
into action! With this thought I looked up expectantly at the doorway,  
  
having assumed that Darien would follow me into the dining hall for   
  
dinner.   
  
But, mysteriously enough, he was nowhere to be found.   
  
Why do I care? I thought agitatedly. Why should I give a damn where he  
  
is or why he suddenly disappeared? I crashed into him yesterday, met   
  
him formally today, I hardly know him, and I must say, what I've seen   
  
of him already isn't exactly working in his favor...Ah well, who cares?  
  
Yes, here's dinner- TOTAL YUMMINESS! And with it, come my lovely   
  
plans...   
  
He chuckled a little at her retreating figure as she stomped out of the  
  
hall and into the dining room, but as soon as her enchanting figure had   
  
disappeared, he sobered. With a few brisk and graceful steps, he had   
  
shut the door behind him and walked into the dark night outside.  
  
Waiiiiiittt, enchanting???   
  
Where in hell had THAT come from? Good lord, what in God's name was   
  
the matter with him? She grated on his nerves, and that was about all  
  
the effect she had, or would ever have on him. He'd always prided   
  
himself on his ability to remain entirely unfazed by anything and   
  
everything, and more specifically, every chit that he came across,   
  
pretty or not.   
  
Anyway, forget her...there were more important things to be dealt with  
  
right now. Like his mission, and what he could possibly tell the King  
  
that night when they all met up at the tavern to discuss updates on the  
  
situation. The other four would be there too, he expected, with updates  
  
on their own missions, all the same as his:  
  
Take on a job at one of the five ruling estates in the Scarletvale   
  
province, a job that would allow each to figure out the truth, and   
  
if something was going on at that estate that shouldn't be.   
  
It had been a month ago, Darien mused, as he quietly saddled a horse   
  
from the estate stables, mounted it, and galloped quickly off onto   
  
Crescent Moon Road. The sun was dying by fire, and it lit the sky with  
  
a dazzling splash of pink and purple as it slowly descended behind the  
  
far off mountains.   
  
One month ago almost exactly, that King Diamond had called the five of   
  
them together with the news that something was amiss in Scarletvale- or   
  
to put it bluntly, the taxes coming in from that area were virtually   
  
nonexistent, according to his chief accountant, Zoicite. He smelled a   
  
rat, the King said, and he was putting his five most trusted advisors   
  
in charge of the investigation.   
  
Reaching into one of the inner pockets of his coat, he pulled out his   
  
brass watch-chain. Perfect, he could reach the tavern in about an hour.  
  
He allowed the horse to move at a slow gallop, and as his eyes took   
  
in the sights about him, his mind traveled back to that day that now   
  
seemed so long ago.   
  
Diamond had said he could literally feel the corruption coming from the   
  
province, and he just knew something sinister was afoot there that was   
  
keeping the taxes from coming in as they should. So, without further   
  
ado, he had assigned them to separate and work subtly but keenly, as   
  
he knew only they could, to reveal the truth and restore justice. It   
  
had taken the rest of that month to formulate plans.   
  
As he traveled on, he appreciatively looked about him; so much perfect  
  
greenery, flowers everywhere; this was, he'd found out from Tsukino,   
  
was entirely due to Serena. She loved the outdoors, having a great   
  
affinity for natural beauty, and made every effort to create a colorful  
  
tapestry of various blossoms, trees and grass on their property, with   
  
the aid of their hired help. It was Serena, too, who had decided on   
  
the name of their estate- Lunaria...  
  
There were five estates to be investigated, and they decided finally   
  
that Kunzite would go to Venutia, Nephrite to Thunder Forest, Jadeite   
  
to Tranquil Waters, Zoicite to Sacred Flame Hill, and Darien would go   
  
to Lunaria. They had split up and left for their respective estates,   
  
and tonight would be their first meeting at the tavern where the roads  
  
to the five estates met, to discuss progress and methods of inspection.  
  
The regal sun had completely disappeared past the mountain, and the moon  
  
in all its mysterious splendor now gazed down at him. Bright but gentle,   
  
beautiful past words, it was so much like Sere...ahem, enough distractions.  
  
What to say tonight? He'd met Tsukino that morning, and had to say, he   
  
liked the man, whose cheery demeanor he could already identify in his   
  
daughter, Serenity. He smiled wryly at this thought. He'd observed her  
  
even before they'd bumped into each other the day before, and was   
  
astonished at the sunshine that radiated from her constantly. So much   
  
energy, so much vivacity, such an unrestrained love for life!   
  
Her passion was entirely alien to Darien. An orphan since soon after   
  
his birth, he'd never really cared for anyone or anything- existence   
  
was a day-to-day affair for him, and he had very little value for even  
  
his own life. Undoubtedly, Kunz, Jed, Neph, and Zo were the best   
  
friends a man could have, and had reached out to him since childhood   
  
when he lacked the family and love everyone else seemed to have in   
  
abundance. The five were really more like brothers and their easy   
  
companionship was evident in every gesture and word to one another.   
  
Nevertheless, he did not understand love, and he certainly didn't   
  
understand how Serena could give it out so freely, to even little   
  
sparrows, like the one with a broken wing he had seen her tenderly   
  
caring for earlier the previous day. And another thing- why was she   
  
so different from every other young woman he'd met?   
  
The other young women, who fawned over him enough to cause temporary   
  
asphyxiation, the ones that flirted shamelessly with every fellow under  
  
sixty, the ones Jed strung up with two-edged compliments and fake   
  
smiles, while laughing uproariously at their stupidity later in private   
  
with Darien and the others. Whereas Serena, and he smirked at the   
  
mental image this conjured up, had unhesitatingly told him exactly how  
  
much she despised him, and he'd seen her slap a youth of about her age  
  
who, apparently, had incurred her wrath by 'shoving his foot in his   
  
mouth' in much the same way Darien had.   
  
What a girl!  
  
Ah, but he was going off about her AGAIN! He had to stop this   
  
ludicrous behavior- how Jed would laugh if he caught wind of it! Now,   
  
to the matter at hand. Before and after she'd come in for her first   
  
meeting with him alone, he had surreptitiously looked through the bills,  
  
documents and ledgers that cluttered the top of Tsukino's desk and filled  
  
the drawers. As far as he could see at first glance, nothing was amiss,  
  
and while giving the impression of being quite unorganized, the estate   
  
owner's records were in perfect order.   
  
Upon further scrutiny, they might reveal something else, however...so   
  
he'd have to watch out. With that thought, he jumped off the horse,   
  
giving it a gentle pat, and tied its reigns to a stake behind the   
  
tavern.   
  
The tavern keeper had been bribed into complete silence and was more   
  
than willing to provide his underground room for the meeting. All   
  
virtue was a matter of price, Darien thought sardonically, and one   
  
could get a person, man or woman, to do just about anything if tempted  
  
with a bit of gold.   
  
He entered and walked towards the counter, subtly gestured to a flash   
  
of silver in the side pocket of his coat, to which the tavern keeper   
  
nodded and nodded his head towards the back of the dimly lit room.   
  
Without any indication that he had seen the man, Darien moved so   
  
imperceptibly to the right that it seemed he had simply disappeared   
  
into the shadows.   
  
  
  
He silently stepped down the steep, dingy stairwell, remembering only  
  
too vividly a certain odangoed-creature's, ahem, encounter with one   
  
just a little earlier...enough! Ah, there they were, all five. Wait,  
  
what was the matter with Zo?  
  
"Oy there, Dare, now that's a first! Never thought we'd have to wait   
  
for you, of all people," Jed remarked with his trademark smirk.   
  
Darien grinned at the thought of what had kept them waiting- a broken   
  
stair and furious maiden. "Yes, well, I got a little sidetracked...  
  
say, Zo, why the pained look? What's the matter with your head?"  
  
At this, Jadeite and Nephrite exploded into laugher, while Kunzite   
  
and King Diamond desperately tried to keep a straight face, though   
  
they seemed on the verge of losing it, the corners of their lips   
  
shaking with suppressed mirth. Zoicite looked even more miserable   
  
and let out a completely uncharacteristic whine.  
  
"It is not funny! I'm in severe agony here!"  
  
"Oh, gasp, sorry, Zo, we're not, wheeze, laughing at you, cough   
  
cough, it's just that...oh, hell, gasp, maybe we are, but the   
  
thought of you, Sir Brainiac, with an IQ the size of Earth, chuckle   
  
beaten and brought to your knees by a snicker mere woman!" Jadeite   
  
finished, desperately trying to catch his breath, and holding on to   
  
Nephrite for support.  
  
"And I thought I had interesting news! This story certainly sounds   
  
far more fascinating. Care to share, Zo?" Darien asked, raising an   
  
eyebrow at the scene surrounding him.  
  
"Not particularly..." grumbled the man with a cold, wet cloth atop   
  
his forehead.   
  
"Oh, come on, Zo, you know perfectly well, you'll split your britches   
  
laughing over this whole incident...just...maybe...not...today,"   
  
Nephrite finished shakily, upon receiving a death-glare from the target  
  
of their laughter.   
  
"Anyway, if you won't tell it, we will."  
  
"NO, NO! Absolutely not! As much as I enjoy being the object of your   
  
ridicule, I'd much rather save myself the obvious humiliation of having  
  
YOU tell, and probably exaggerate wildly, my encounter with Sacred Flame  
  
Hill, and its mistress." At this last word, he shuddered visibly, and  
  
Jadeite and Nephrite predictably sniggered.  
  
Zo took a deep breath and began.   
  
"Well, I set off two days ago, like the rest of you, but due to, ahem,   
  
complications, I only got there last night. And yes, I suppose you   
  
louts will expect me to explain what the main complication was. I was   
  
so preoccupied with getting something to drink- and what do you expect?  
  
it was so hot!- that I sort of, uh, forgot to tie my horse's reins up   
  
properly and so when I realized and ran out to get it, it was already  
  
galloping away, but not before splashing muddy sludge all over me.   
  
So, I basically lost the horse and was covered head-to-toe in filth.   
  
Oh and did I mention that my entire provisions & clothes bag was tied   
  
to the horse's saddle? Well, it was. So, really, I lost the horse,   
  
my attire and supplies and had to walk the remaining 12 miles up Hikawa  
  
Lane. And you think, 12 miles, Zo, you pansy, that's nothing to   
  
complain of. Oh, is that so? Well, try walking it when said 12 miles  
  
are on a G'DAMNED SLOPE! Note, it's called Sacred Flame HILL! And   
  
when they say hill, they're not bloody joking!"   
  
By this time, Jadeite and Nephrite had decided to start in on their   
  
second roar fest for the evening- the image of their unfailingly mild-  
  
mannered comrade swearing like this all the way up the mountain was   
  
simply too much for them.   
  
"But was that all? Of course not. I thought 'What else can possibly   
  
happen to make this worse?' Had I been thinking clearly, Murphy's Law  
  
would have brought me in for a reality check, but I wasn't in much of   
  
a state to figure that out. So I finally made it to the Hill by the   
  
next afternoon, and as I stopped to catch my breath, this, er,   
  
attractive woman looks up from her garden."   
  
"Attractive? Are you saying YOU found a woman beautiful, Zo? That   
  
bump on your forehead must be worse that I thought." interjected Darien.  
  
  
  
"Oh, shut up. She was- longest black hair I've ever seen- it almost   
  
looked violet, like her eyes. Anyhow, God alone knows what she must   
  
have thought when she saw my disgustingly disheveled state, but she   
  
simply invited me in, gave me a delicious dinner of rolls, soup and   
  
roast mutton, and offered me a place to stay overnight. I didn't   
  
quite mention why I was there, but she didn't seem to care.   
  
So I slept there, and when I woke up in the morning, I found her   
  
praying in front of a fire in a nearby room of her mansion, if it can   
  
be rightfully called that. I tiptoed in, not wanting to interrupt her,  
  
but she sensed my presence immediately, and gently asked if I needed   
  
anything.   
  
I told her I needed a job, and she said she was terribly sorry and   
  
there wasn't really much I could do. And this is where my inimitable  
  
brilliance makes its entrance. I ventured to mention that maintaining  
  
such a huge estate must be such entirely difficult for one person, and  
  
at that, a woman like herself, to accomplish. BIG MISTAKE. She got   
  
this look on her face like she was going to have a conniption or-"  
  
"Zo, if it isn't too much to ask, you think you could continue speaking  
  
English here?" Nephrite interrupted.  
  
"Good lord, read a book, man! Fine, then, she looked like she was   
  
ready to kill something, or someone rather. She just hollered at me.   
  
Said something to the effect of how dare I question her abilities,   
  
and why couldn't a woman do anything her censored-possessing counterpart  
  
could. I don't quite remember the details of her tirade because then   
  
she did this crazy kick, back-flip thing and before I even knew what   
  
was going on, I was flat on my back, which might have cracked with the   
  
impact had I been any less physically strong, and some sort of long   
  
paper was stuck to my forehead.  
  
She yelled at me to get off her property before she did even worse,   
  
and I, well, I..."  
  
"You basically scampered. Bravo, Zo! What a masterful presence!"   
  
Darien remarked, grinning widely.   
  
Jadeite and Nephrite, at this point, were rolling on the floor, laughing  
  
wordlessly, tears streaming from their eyes.  
  
"Gentlemen, as amusing as Zoicite's, ahem, little adventure is, we DO   
  
have some business to discuss, that is, believe it or not, a little  
  
more important than some madwoman's antics."  
  
"Gah! Honestly, Kunz, you wouldn't even be putting on this farce of   
  
propriety and calm if His Majesty weren't here," Jadeite jeered,   
  
regaining his composure, and rising from his position curled up on the   
  
floor.   
  
"Well, at least Kunzite thankfully has enough sense to realize that   
  
there is a time and place for everything, Jadeite," King Diamond noted   
  
in his typically cool, emotionless tone. "What news do you bring, men?"  
  
"Well, I, for one, found my first encounter with Tranquil Lake to be   
  
singularly boring. Tranquil indeed! Everything about the place is   
  
completely horrific!"  
  
"In the context of what you said, I think you mean 'soporific,' Jed,"   
  
Zoicite corrected patiently.  
  
"Well, I mean both! It's so soporific it IS horrific! Granted, the   
  
young lady, Ami I think her name was, is a hell of a looker, but so   
  
damn shy! She barely spoke six words to me in the entire time I was   
  
there! Actually, no, seven- 'it is my pleasure to meet you.'"  
  
"Jed, anything with legs, long eyelashes and a pair of lips is 'a   
  
hell of looker' to you,'" Darien observed dryly.   
  
"Perhaps, but at least I'm honest about it," the blonde muttered,   
  
casting a rather obvious glance in Kunzite's direction.  
  
Darien chuckled, while Kunzite chose to ignore that statement and   
  
instead asked, "Well, Nephrite, what about you? What of your journey   
  
to Thunder Forest?"   
  
Nephrite shrugged and replied, "It was alright. Very peaceful place,   
  
actually. Just one woman living in the main establishment." And what  
  
a woman she is, he added silently, remembering the brown-haired   
  
Amazoness he'd met the day before and the way her green eyes sparkled   
  
with energy and strength. Aloud, he said, "It shouldn't be much of a  
  
problem to figure out if there's anything going on over there."  
  
"Excellent," replied Diamond, "but nevertheless, keep a sharp eye out,  
  
Nephrite. Leave no stone unturned- woman or not, she might be up to   
  
something."  
  
"Say, what about you, Kunz, you haven't said anything about your trip   
  
to Venutia. I can only presume you're upset 'cause you weren't lucky   
  
enough to find an estate with a lovely dame on it, like us?" Jadeite   
  
taunted cheerfully.   
  
"One-track mind," murmured the object of his mockery, shaking his head.  
  
"But since you insist, I'll tell you what I found. It's a pretty big  
  
place for a small family- Lord and Lady Aino and their daughter Mina.  
  
I decided to follow Darien's example and play tutor to the girl- I   
  
suppose it will be all right, though she'll talk my head off if I allow  
  
her to.   
  
Chatter, chatter, chatter- about this cotillion and that, this 'handsome  
  
fellow' and the other ones, all of whom are desperately in love with   
  
her," he groaned, although secretly he knew exactly why they would all  
  
be desperately in love with her.   
  
The curtain of golden silk that was her hair, and those deep, laughing  
  
blue eyes were enough to drive any...ahem, yes well, enough of that.   
  
"Ugh, a flirtatious, self-important chatterbox. What could be worse?   
  
You poor Kunzite," Jaedite said sadly, shaking his head.  
  
"Interesting you should say that, Jed, considering how remarkably that  
  
description of Mina fits you. Anyway, I'll be able to conduct the   
  
investigation well- her parents seem to trust me well enough..." Kunzite  
  
finished, taking a sip of ale from the mug in front of him, and firmly   
  
resolving to keep his own observations about the "lovely dame" of   
  
Venutia to himself.  
  
"Heck, it's no wonder they do, Kunz. I'm willing to bet they wouldn't   
  
even hesitate to leave their only daughter, however curvaceous she   
  
might be, entirely in your care for a year- it'd be like entrusting her   
  
to the pope!" laughed Jaedite, receiving a murderous glare from the   
  
other man.   
  
"There's no such word as- ah, forget it, Jed," Zoicite ended rather   
  
lamely, realizing the futility of his attempt, and going back to   
  
massaging his bruised forehead.   
  
"You have to admit it's quite true, Kunz- you haven't made any vows of   
  
celibacy, but you might as well have," Darien added.  
  
"You're one to talk, Dare- I've never see YOU give a female a second   
  
glance, aside from the trademark 'Leave me the hell alone' one."   
  
So, what have you got to say about Lunaria?"   
  
"It's a great place. So many trees and the central mansion's   
  
architecture is just incredib-"  
  
"Sakes alive, man, that bad? What happened? It couldn't have been   
  
worse than...well..." Nephrite trailed off, looking over at Zoicite   
  
who was still wincing every time he touched his forehead.  
  
"No, Serena's not violent like that, well, at least, not in my experience.   
  
Although I did see her give a resounding slap to some fellow unfortunate  
  
enough to incur her wrath. Gods, she's so...so...so..." he was at a   
  
complete loss for words, something that never, ever happened to him.   
  
The others glanced at one another, sensing, as always, hidden   
  
feelings behind their friend's inability to express himself.   
  
"ANNOYING! She's a walking disaster, I swear! And she hates school,   
  
which is why her parents hired me in the first place, she's completely   
  
unruly and, what's more, she doesn't even realize it! Her behavior is   
  
completely out of line, as it's obvious she's been spoiled silly all her  
  
life, but you can bet I'll change that. If ever I saw an uppity   
  
creature who's in desperate need of a good lesson, she's it and I'm   
  
lucky enough to be in the position to give it to her," he said,   
  
stopping to catch his breath after that tirade, but not possessing half  
  
as much conviction as his words did.  
  
"Alright, then, you do that, Dare," Jadeite said quietly, a little   
  
unnerved despite himself at the unabashed display of emotion that was  
  
virtually unheard of coming from Darien. This Serena must be some girl  
  
if she had already had such an effect on his permanently calm and   
  
collected friend. Then he turned to Zoicite.   
  
"Say, Zo, seeing as how you're REALLY not cut out for confrontations,  
  
and with, gasp women, no less, what say I go to Sacred Flame Hill   
  
instead and try my hand at making that nutty dame see things my way?   
  
You can go to Tranquil Waters, that place is far too boring for me,   
  
anyhow, " Jadeite suggested.   
  
Despite his repeated jokes at Zoicite's expense, he couldn't help but  
  
feel very sorry for the poor fellow. A gentle, quiet chap like Zoicite  
  
didn't deserve such trouble, and besides, he was rather intrigued by   
  
his friend's, ahem, attacker, and her black hair that "almost looked   
  
violet, like her eyes."  
  
Zoicite agreed gratefully, believing that Tranquil Waters would suit  
  
him much better- and even if it didn't, it still HAD to be an   
  
improvement over that...that...hellcat and her temper.  
  
The six agreed to meet a few weeks later to discuss progress and   
  
findings- once again, for half an hour lest they arouse suspicions   
  
as to their whereabouts. After saluting their disguised King Diamond,  
  
they all set off in their separate directions, but not before Jadeite  
  
taunted Zoicite a few more times for good measure, and exchanged a   
  
significant glance with Kunzite as they watched Darien jump onto his   
  
horse and ride off onto Crescent Moon Road once again. Something was  
  
up with him and that girl Serena, and eventually, they would have to   
  
find out what it was.   
  
Darien sped his horse on, though just why he was so eager to return to  
  
Lunaria and that annoying girl, he did not want to consider. He   
  
looked inside his coat pocket, and upon ascertaining that his journal  
  
was still there, he rode on. He had decided to keep track of all   
  
his actions, where the mission was concerned, in the leather-bound  
  
book, to remember all important details for future meetings in the   
  
tavern. Finally, he saw the telltale brilliance of the alabaster   
  
white mansion under the moonlight, and remembered the platinum hair   
  
and impossibly huge cerulean blue eyes of a certain little princess   
  
therein. 


	3. Confrontations,Apologies, Changes,oh my!

Someone has mentioned that tabasco sauce probly wasn't around at this   
  
point, and that is probably true, but hey, poetic license- bear with me!   
  
Thanks a bunch for your reviews and please, please keep them up.  
  
It was a beautiful but lazy afternoon, I decided, as I lay on my bed,   
  
with the operative word being "lazy." Decidedly too laz...err, beautiful,  
  
to waste doing those dull exercises in Latin that Darien had assigned   
  
me that morning. The perfectly blue, cloudless sky seemed to beg me to  
  
come outside and admire it for a while, and never one to argue with   
  
Nature and its impulses, I dragged myself off the bed and stepped out   
  
onto the balcony. And yet even the captivating way the light breeze   
  
blew over the grass wasn't enough to keep my mind off, well, him, and  
  
here I grimace.  
  
Only two months had passed, and yet it seemed to me as though we'd been  
  
fighting for years. Hundreds of barbs, insults, and practical jokes   
  
later, we were growing to understand each other very well, as we (most   
  
unfortunately) spent most of each day together, but it did nothing to   
  
lessen our aggravation and utter resentment of each other's presence.  
  
He never failed to point out my "utter immaturity," "disgusting   
  
laziness" and "amazing ignorance," and I was always more than happy to  
  
counter his remarks with my own biting ones about his "remarkable   
  
insensitivity," arrogance and "affinity for unfailingly stupid remarks."   
  
Suddenly I giggled, remembering the look on his face on that day weeks   
  
ago when he brought a glass of red wine to his lips after I oh-so-  
  
surreptitiously poured tabasco sauce into it especially for his benefit.   
  
He had miraculously managed to swallow the disgusting concoction   
  
without any indication that it tasted a lot like tar. What had followed  
  
his smooth recovery, however, made the newly formed crease on my brow   
  
show itself once again.   
  
He'd proceeded to casually suggest that I supposedly needed to learn   
  
how to properly sip wine and there was no time like the present for me   
  
to do so. Then, as a true and perfectly innocent gentleman, he'd offered  
  
his own cup of tabasco-ed wine to me, his mocking eyes dancing as usual,  
  
and insisted that I first try sipping from his glass; I'd hesitated,   
  
obviously, but my wonderful parents, completely oblivious to the foul   
  
play, cheerfully encouraged me, and giving him a look of pure hatred,   
  
I'd accepted, tasted, and spit the horrible liquid right back out, only   
  
to have it project straight onto the cravat of Father's shirt. A   
  
memorable experience, if nothing else.  
  
And then there was the few times I'd "accidentally" toppled the bottle   
  
of ink right onto Darien's trousers, but much to my regret, his reflexes  
  
had kicked in after the first of these experiences, and the ink just   
  
ended up all over the carpet. Almost I felt sorry for him, and for all  
  
the hell I'd put him through those past few months in retribution for   
  
his presence here...but no, never mind, he deserves it. He asked me   
  
once, well, more like, demanded angrily, his eyes darkening furiously   
  
after I made yet another flippant remark, why I was so bent on making   
  
him miserable and I sweetly replied that it was the only way to make   
  
him leave for good. Then, as usual, he'd pulled that stupid move he   
  
enjoys so thoroughly (probably for the way it throws me off balance)   
  
of leaning down very close to my face and whispering, "I have no   
  
intentions of leaving you or this estate until I get exactly what   
  
I came for." Leaving me to figure out just what that meant and why   
  
he really did come here.  
  
But nevertheless, I wonder now what would happen if my wish came true,   
  
and I did wear him out to the point of leaving forever and finally   
  
giving me some peace of mind. What would it be like, to wake up in the  
  
morning without spending the rest of it in attempts to win an argument  
  
against that ill-bred and irritatingly sharp-witted creature? Without   
  
eating breakfast in a deliberately sloppy way just to aggravate him,   
  
and have him fix me with that look of mixed amusement and annoyance,   
  
which would inevitably result in each of us trying to stare the other  
  
into submission? Without riding our horses over the rolling verdant  
  
hills as he told me about the state and the history of our province?  
  
Without the wind blowing through his thick, beautiful black hair and  
  
his blue eyes snapping with energy as he raced me back to the stables?   
  
No, no, must not go down that road, for that road leads only to madness.   
  
You know you want to, Serena.  
  
Want to what? I returned challengingly, though I probably knew quite   
  
well just what the stupid voice was talking about.   
  
Want to go down that road, see where it leads you, see if the promises   
  
in Darien's eyes are real, and if they're for you, forever...  
  
  
  
"No they're not for me, and... and they never will be, which is j-just   
  
fine, because I don't want them, I don't need them!" I sputtered angrily,  
  
not even realizing that I was speaking aloud.  
  
"Don't need what, princess, more intelligence and class? Hm, somehow   
  
I beg to differ."   
  
A velvety voice spoke suddenly into the silence after my angry   
  
declaration and I spun around to see who dared interrupt my   
  
contemplation. Take a wild guess who was leaning lazily against the   
  
doorframe.   
  
"What the hell are you doing up here? Who gave a piece of scum like   
  
you the right to come in here?" I responded furiously.  
  
"Language, language; have you learnt nothing from me at all about what  
  
is appropriate behavior for a girl of your age?" he smiled indulgently,  
  
as he walked up to me, shaking his head in that infuriating way. I   
  
wished him a crick in the neck.  
  
"Anyway, to answer your amazingly polite and demure inquiry as to my   
  
presence here, I'm just here to let you know that your mother has just  
  
informed me about a ball King Diamond will be holding in about a month.  
  
Your family has been invited, and thus it is my duty to ensure you do  
  
not make a laughingstock of both yourself and them, a feat you could   
  
single-handedly accomplish, I'm sure, with little or no effort," he  
  
finished with a smirk as he stopped in front of me.   
  
Oh, but how that stung! I had been trying, I really had, for Father's  
  
sake, if nothing else, to listen to Darien (although I'd never let him  
  
know that) and learn what he had to teach me. And for all my efforts,  
  
he was just throwing my clumsiness, talkative nature and, in short,   
  
every flaw I possessed, right back in my face. Never once had I shown  
  
that his insults affected me in any way, nor did I intend to do so,   
  
but suddenly it seemed hard to repress the tears in my throat, fighting  
  
their way to my now closed eyes.  
  
"If you're quite done belittling me in every way possible, I'd appreciate  
  
it very much if you'd leave now, please," I said hoarsely, hating the   
  
waver in my voice, and opening my eyes to look straight at him, which I  
  
found was not so easy to do.  
  
Suddenly, the mocking gleam in his eyes disappeared, to be replaced with-  
  
what was that? Sorrow for the pain he had caused me? Hah, wishful   
  
thinking. How could it be? Since when had he cared how I felt?  
  
At about the same time you started caring about what he thought of you.  
  
"Serena, I..." he started, reaching his arm out to touch my shoulder   
  
gently, as a gesture of apology. But I would have none of it, and   
  
immediately stepped back, away from him and his effort to appease me.  
  
"Just go, Darien! Damn you, just go!" I said in a fierce whisper,   
  
turning around quickly so he wouldn't see the tears now freely streaming   
  
down my cheeks.   
  
I felt the warmth of his body behind me as he reached out to touch my   
  
shoulder again, but then he just let his hand drop, and I heard his   
  
footsteps fade away as he left the balcony.   
  
The next day was strange, and the day after that, and the day after   
  
that, even. Finally, I decided that enough was enough, and decided to   
  
confront him, figuring that it was silly for him to be so awkward   
  
around me, and for us to just shift from foot to foot like we had been  
  
doing, from a loss of words, and his inability to speak for fear of   
  
offending me again.   
  
So, four days after our altercation, he sat against the edge of my   
  
father's desk, fixedly reading Shakespeare's Sonnet 149 to me, and   
  
refusing to make eye contact with me at all.  
  
"Darien?" I interrupted, resolving to just rush in headlong and get it   
  
over with.  
  
"But, love, hate on, for now...yes, what is it?" he said, not looking   
  
up.  
  
"Look at me."  
  
He raised his head and stared straight at me, as though he had meant to  
  
from the start.  
  
"Look, about that thing, on my balcony..." I started.  
  
"Yes, I meant to...that is, I wanted to..." he cut in, trailing off   
  
uncertainly, bowing his head again, so that all I could see was his   
  
straight black hair, shining in the sunlight.  
  
"Darien?" I said softly.  
  
"Serena, I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt you like that,  
  
I just, I suppose I just said whatever came into my head, not even   
  
realizing that it was completely untrue, and hurtful. Can you...do you   
  
think you could forgive me?" he asked quietly, lifting his head and   
  
looking straight at me.  
  
I was startled beyond words at the expression in those eyes, flashing   
  
brilliantly, like sapphires under the sun.  
  
Knowing I would never be able to speak unless I looked away from those  
  
brilliant orbs, I fixed my gaze on the sunlight shining in from the   
  
window, past his shoulder, for the sunlight wasn't nearly as blinding   
  
as his eyes.  
  
"You aren't very used to apologizing, are you?"  
  
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he replied, "Is it really  
  
that obvious?"  
  
"Actually, for someone with little or no practice in the art of   
  
apologies, you're really quite good. But you know, someone once told  
  
me that asking for forgiveness, doesn't make anyone any smaller, and   
  
that the one who is willing to forgive possesses a big heart. And   
  
while my brain may be rather small, I'd like to make up for that by   
  
possessing a big heart, at least. So yes, Darien, I do forgive you,"  
  
I finished, with a smile.   
  
My acknowledgement of what had happened that day cheered him up visibly,  
  
and we agreed that everything was all right, so we could go back to   
  
arguing just as usual.   
  
But things had changed, and we both knew it, though neither of us was   
  
willing to admit it.   
  
We were softer to each other after that, and while we had again   
  
commenced with the insults and mockery, it was different, for we were   
  
careful to make sure we didn't say things we didn't mean, and that   
  
nothing we said was too harsh. We certainly wouldn't say we were   
  
friends, for what sort of friends never spoke except to argue and   
  
throw insults back and forth? But we weren't 'enemies' anymore either,  
  
and that made all the difference.  
  
We spent the month before the ball making me "presentable." I learned  
  
how to dance, how to speak slowly and clearly, instead of breathlessly  
  
rushing my words together, as I so often did, how to eat, how to walk,  
  
and how to conduct myself properly with other nobles and answer any   
  
question posed to me.   
  
This was all in addition to my regular lessons, so in all it was quite  
  
tiring, but if I showed signs of fatigue or illness, he would smirk   
  
and say, "Mustn't overwork the little princess, she might break!" in  
  
that annoying tone of his, and immediately make me eat and then send  
  
me off to sleep, postponing further lessons until the next day.  
  
So, after a month of preparations, secret and significant glances   
  
while we danced in the study, and, of course, enough laughter to make   
  
my sides ache, I was ready for the ball.   
  
Well, as ready as I would ever be, at any rate.  
  
Disclaimer: If you or anyone you know has a particular affection for   
  
red wine mixed with tabasco sauce, I'm terribly sorry, and in no way   
  
do I mean to insult you or your taste. I've never had either red wine  
  
or tabasco sauce, nor any combination of the two, so I have no way of  
  
knowing whether or not it does in fact taste like tar, so once again,  
  
please accept my sincerest apologies if that assumption offended you.   
  
Oh, and a hearty thanks to Sabra for her review- I'm so glad you liked   
  
it, your stories are so much fun too!! 


	4. The Ball

Author's notes: My faithful readers, after a two-week hiatus, Priya   
  
returns! (Drum roll) Just kidding, I'm not that great. Again, I do  
  
not wish to offend anyone with the contents of the following chapter,  
  
and I promise, no more nonsense about wine and tabasco sauce, which,   
  
now that I think about it, might actually taste alright- jk! And no,   
  
they probably didn't have tabasco sauce then, to answer that question   
  
once and for all, but hey, poetic license counts for something, doesn't  
  
it? A hearty thanks to Callista, Namiko-Daughter of Sekhmet, Silver-  
  
chan, GlitteringFairy, Sailor-Angel (this one's nice and long, Sailor-  
  
chan!) and all my lovely anonymous reviewers- your comments warm my   
  
heart, folks- please keep it up, it really does help and remember,   
  
silence is NOT golden here, praise and criticism (where they are due)  
  
are! But enough of my silly tangents, on with the story!! Enjoy and  
  
let me know what you think!!  
  
* * * * *  
  
Luna tiptoed into her mistress's bedroom, a precious bundle folded in  
  
her arms. Upon ensuring that Serena was indeed within her bathroom,  
  
singing loudly and contentedly as she bathed, she approached the bed  
  
and carefully lay the soft material upon it, opening it and spreading  
  
it affectionately, patting out the creases and folds.   
  
Oh, how divine her Serena would look tonight! She sighed a little   
  
wistfully, caressing the silky cloth beneath her fingers, and wishing   
  
she had something to look forward to in the evening as well. But then,  
  
Serena appeared, her glistening wet body wrapped in a pink towel, an   
  
excited beam spreading on her face; she crossed to the bed to see what  
  
it was that her dear friend was leaning over.   
  
Luna shook away her disloyal thoughts- it was enough that this sweet   
  
girl should revel in her own handiwork and hug her so fervently, thank  
  
her so sincerely for creating such a "divine masterpiece."  
  
"There, dear Serenity, it's quite all right, now let's put it on you-   
  
time's wasting, and your father will be calling for you to leave soon,  
  
I'm sure," she said, returning her ward's warm embrace, before pulling  
  
away to pick up the 'masterpiece' on the bed.  
  
She carefully slipped it over Serena's head, and it dropped of its own  
  
accord to the girl's feet. Luna stepped back to get a better look,   
  
and gasped; this girl who had come to be more her sister than her   
  
mistress, this delightfully clumsy and sweet child, was a vision.   
  
And indeed, it was not just the curly-haired young woman's bias;   
  
Serena was indeed a transformed creature. Luna carefully started   
  
making up her two odangos, when Serena startled her.  
  
"Er, Luna? I was thinking, maybe it would be nice for me to leave my   
  
hair down tonight, maybe just pin it up on the sides so it doesn't fall  
  
into my face..."she said hesitantly.  
  
"Certainly, dear, that's a wonderful idea. I've got just the thing,"   
  
Luna replied, smiling. From the pocket in her apron, she produced a   
  
pair of barrettes in the shape of crescent moons, and careful placed   
  
them on either side of Serena's forehead, pulling the hair in front   
  
back slightly. She carefully combed the girl's endless hair out,   
  
curling it slightly at the ends.   
  
Then, she brought out a long, intricate chain of carefully designed   
  
crystal patterns that were fashioned into a beautiful necklace, one   
  
that Lady Irene had specifically given her for her daughter's use, and  
  
carefully put it around the girl's slender white throat, fastening it  
  
in back.  
  
"Oh my," Serena said, fingering the beautiful jewelry, for which there  
  
were matching crystals in her ears, and a lovely bracelet on her hand.  
  
But she felt that they made her look pale...too pale...  
  
"Say, maybe I could wear a bit of rouge, Luna?" Serena asked tentatively,  
  
wondering if maybe she was crossing the limit.  
  
"Heavens above- of course not! You crazy girl! I don't even want to  
  
think what your mother would say, should I allow you to paint your  
  
face like some...some..." Luna sputtered, utterly indignant.  
  
"Scarlet-woman?" her ward provided helpfully, grinning. Oh, what fun   
  
to see the shock on dear Luna's face! She had indeed crossed the limit,  
  
but it was worth it, to see Luna's wavy blue-violet hair literally rise  
  
in her horror at Serena's suggestion.  
  
"Y-yes, I mean, no... my goodness, you shouldn't even know about such   
  
things. Off with you now, before we're both in trouble!" Luna was   
  
scandalized. She sounded remarkably older than her charge, although   
  
they were in fact about the same age. Serena gave her an affectionate  
  
kiss on the cheek, before leaving the room, or rather, hopping out,   
  
as she slipped on each of her silver sandals.   
  
Serena turned her head, to catch a last glance of Luna shaking her head  
  
as she cleared up, and muttering about young ladies these days and the  
  
crazy ideas that only school could give them. She giggled, resuming   
  
her walk towards the spiral staircase. But something she saw at the   
  
foot of the stairs, well rather, someone, made her stop dead in her   
  
tracks, and she could have sworn her heart did too.  
  
There stood Darien, in an impeccable black suit, with the ruffle of   
  
an snow white shirt peeking out, and a cape of ebony with red lining   
  
around his neck, the same shade as his thick black hair. He had been  
  
leaning against the railing until now with a rather bored expression   
  
on his face, but upon her appearance, he stood straight and looked up   
  
at her, and what he saw darkened his eyes to an even deeper, more   
  
passionate shade of dark blue.  
  
Normally, Serena was a sweet, pretty girl- she couldn't exactly be   
  
called beautiful by society's standards, except for her bright blue   
  
eyes, which were huge, limpid and always fathomless. Tonight, though,  
  
there could be no doubt in any mind that she was a girl transformed;  
  
her features, usually normal and nice, now seemed to be the perfect   
  
ones of a porcelain doll, her already large, lustrous eyes were even   
  
brighter than normal, sparkling with excitement and energy for the night  
  
to come.   
  
Darien's breath caught in his throat as he stared up at her; she was   
  
breathtaking. Her long flowing white dress, with its satin folds above  
  
an empire waist, emphasized exactly the right curves of her body,   
  
tightened around her waist and highlighted how slender it was, and   
  
then dropped straight down, fluttering at the ends. Her endless hair  
  
seemed to be a fantastic swirl of gold and silver, and it took all   
  
his oft-mentioned willpower to prevent from running up the stairs and  
  
letting his hands luxuriate in the silkiness of those long strands.   
  
Slowly, she stepped down the stairs toward him, unsure of what to say   
  
to the dark-haired god before her, as he seemed to have no intentions   
  
of speaking at the moment. Don't trip, walk slowly, she reminded   
  
herself, you've practiced this, slow and steady, slow and-   
  
The broken stair reared its ugly head, and she lost her balance, falling  
  
towards the bottom. She braced herself for the painful impact with   
  
the cold, hard floor...   
  
And instead found herself colliding with a warm, solid mass that wrapped  
  
its arms around her.   
  
"Are you alright there, princess?" he asked and while her face was   
  
buried in his cravat, she could hear the undertone of amusement. Make  
  
that a   
  
warm, solid, and undeniably male mass.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, and if it's not too much trouble..."she began talking   
  
to his shirt buttons.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Do you think you could let go of me? I'm finding it rather difficult  
  
to breathe," she requested.  
  
She was quickly released, and sure enough, a pair of deep blue eyes met  
  
her own, twinkling with amusement. She stepped back a few inches and  
  
looked at him. My goodness, his appearance was enhanced even further   
  
up close!  
  
"Oh my," she said in awe, not even realizing that her thoughts were   
  
being communicated aloud.   
  
"Like what you seem, madam?" Darien smirked, enjoying the expression   
  
on her beautiful face immensely.  
  
"Oh ye- that is, I meant, for someone who finds it so hard to keep up  
  
with the fashion, you actually look excell-acceptable," she stammered  
  
hastily.  
  
"Well," he said, stepping closer to her and leaning in to her ear as he  
  
whispered, "for someone who thinks I look 'acceptable,' that furious   
  
blush on your face is rather contradictory, hm?"  
  
She trembled involuntarily at the warmth of his voice right next to her  
  
ear, and pressed her hands to her cheeks, and found that they were   
  
indeed very hot. Damn him for looking so...so....argh!   
  
"Oh, and on another note, considering what a little hellcat you usually  
  
are, it amazes me to see you look like such an angel tonight," he   
  
whispered huskily.   
  
Her eyes widened to an impossible size. Angel?   
  
"Shall we?" he said then in a normal, neutral voice, extending his arm  
  
out to her, as though he hadn't whispered anything suggestive just before.  
  
She shook herself out of her trance, and her immaculate white sash   
  
grazed his black sleeve as she took his arm.  
  
"We shall."  
  
The carriage ride was mostly silent, as she sat next to her parents   
  
and across from Darien, who successfully unnerved her by subjecting   
  
her eyes, face and body to the penetrating gaze of those deep,   
  
inscrutable eyes of his throughout the journey to King Diamond's castle.   
  
Thankfully, her father didn't notice, for he was wont to jump to   
  
conclusions very easily and goodness knows what he would have thought  
  
or said, had he seen the way his daughter's 'tutor' was eyeing her.  
  
When they reached the castle, Serena was awestruck as she stepped out   
  
of the carriage. She had always thought her mansion, as well as those  
  
of Mina and Ami, to be huge, but they seemed like mere cottages in   
  
comparison to this building.   
  
How wealthy the king must be to afford this type of splendor! Indeed,  
  
his coffers must be overflowing, she confirmed as they entered the  
  
massive structure, and were led by a servant down a long hallway.   
  
Expensive, ornate paintings everywhere, vases and gleaming mahogany  
  
furniture from the Orient, costly, thick rugs and tapestries on   
  
every floor and wall- good heavens!  
  
She glanced over at her companions; sure enough, her parents looked   
  
just as amazed at the unabashed affluence displayed everywhere the   
  
eye could see. Darien, however, was wearing a very cool expression.  
  
He didn't seem to be the least bit fazed by the grandeur of his   
  
surroundings; if anything, his bearing seemed rather...familiar...  
  
s though he were accustomed to this silver-plated environment.   
  
But that was ridiculous; he certainly wasn't rich- how could he be,  
  
if he had been hired as her tutor, no less? It was very strange,  
  
but all thoughts of the discrepancy between Darien's financial   
  
situation and his current demeanor- well, actually all thoughts   
  
of any kind- flew out of her mind as they entered the ballroom.   
  
Gold drapes everywhere, a white floor that seemed to sparkle,   
  
several magnificent crystal chandeliers, oh my! The enormous room   
  
was full of people and some large round tables covered in white lace  
  
tablecloths were scattered across the room, leaving plenty of area   
  
in which to dance, as many couples were already doing. They all seemed  
  
to be strangers; was there no one she knew- surely Mina wouldn't have  
  
passed up a chance like this to show off her beauty, dancing, and   
  
remarkable flirting abilities?  
  
Suddenly, Serena spotted a whole array of familiar faces. Without   
  
thinking, she grabbed Darien's hand and dragged him across the room to  
  
where a group of young men and women were gathered around a table,   
  
talking and laughing.  
  
"Lita! Mina! Amy! RAYE?!" Serena shrieked enthusiastically. Darien  
  
looked at her in askance. What had he said about that voice of hers   
  
and lowering its magnitude?   
  
Upon realizing to whom those shrieks belonged, Serena's friends turned  
  
in her direction, and exclaimed, "SERENA!" each hugging her affectionately.  
  
As they chattered about how beautiful she looked, and about who all   
  
'their' young men were, Darien turned to the others in the group.  
  
"Evening, fellows, how are you?"  
  
"Hello Dare! Good to see you!" Jadeite said cheerfully.  
  
"Darien, you know these men?" Serena said, turning to him.  
  
"What do you mean, of cour-, well, they're acquaintances of mine," he   
  
covered his mistake smoothly. Great going, idiot, he scolded himself.   
  
If you're deliberately trying to make Serena suspicious, you're doing   
  
a splendid job of it.  
  
"Acquaintances, Darien? I thought we were closer than that," Nephrite  
  
feigned hurt.   
  
"Shut up, idiot, and play along," Zoicite whispered almost inaudibly   
  
to his friend, nudging him in the side. Didn't he understand that they   
  
had appearances to keep up, especially where these girls were concerned?  
  
All four men looked remarkably handsome, in similar navy, gray, light   
  
blue, and white suits.  
  
"Don't you have any manners, Serena? Introduce us!" Raye playfully   
  
slapped the blonde upside the head.  
  
Serena almost stuck her tongue out at the raven-haired beauty, before   
  
noticing Darien's warning look, and instead settled for a cute pout.   
  
Then, with a flourish, she said, "I was just about to, Miss High-and-  
  
Mighty-Priestess. Girls, this is Darien Shields, my new tutor."   
  
And maybe more, she added silently, but we'll have to wait and see.  
  
All four girls turned to Darien for the first time, and as he turned   
  
his head to look at them, Raye gave a little cry of surprise, and her  
  
face lost all of its lovely rosy color.  
  
"Oh dear heaven," she whispered so softly that only Jadeite, Serena   
  
and Darien heard her. Serena looked surprised for a moment, and then  
  
her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her friend's pale face,   
  
while Jadeite and Darien looked visibly confused.  
  
Lita, immediately catching on, said, "It is our pleasure to meet you,  
  
Darien," and Mina eagerly agreed, while Amy shyly nodded her head;   
  
all three girls curtsied gracefully, and Darien gallantly bowed.   
  
Serena quickly wiped her eyes, and to distract Raye, who was still   
  
staring wide-eyed at Darien, she asked incredulously, "Raye darling,  
  
what in the world are you doing here? You always said you wouldn't   
  
come near one of these 'large, useless social gatherings' under pain   
  
of death."  
  
Raye was successfully shaken out of her trance, and she looked at   
  
Jadeite, remembering just what it was that had induced her presence at  
  
this silly ball.  
  
"HE stole my incense sticks for morning prayers and waved them over   
  
his head until I agreed to come," she raged, pointing at the grinning  
  
blonde man next to her. "Although just why my decision to attend or   
  
not attend the ball is any of his business, I truly don't know," she   
  
grumbled.  
  
Amy smiled and softly remarked, "Well, I think Jadeite does indeed   
  
deserve adulation for his remarkable ability to pinpoint exactly the   
  
proper incentive to absolve you of your rather antisocial inclinations,  
  
Raye."  
  
Judging by the looks on their faces, Amy's comment baffled everyone   
  
except for Zoicite and Darien, who, next to her, probably had larger   
  
vocabularies than the rest put together.  
  
"Er, right, Amy dear. Anyhow, Raye, anyone who can make YOU show up at  
  
an event like THIS is a friend of mine," Serena said cheerfully,   
  
introducing herself to Jadeite, and then the other men.  
  
"Soooooo, Kunzite, would you like to honor me with a dance?" Mina   
  
gaily sidled up to the man with white-silver hair, who was sitting   
  
awkwardly at the table.   
  
"Err, I think not, Mina, I do not believe your parents would approve of   
  
that," he replied rather stiffly, although his friends keenly perceived  
  
the hesitation with which he declined her request, and cast sidelong   
  
glances at one another.  
  
"Alright then, suit yourself, but remember, you know what you're   
  
missing," Mina smiled, completely unfazed, as she asked another   
  
youth standing nearby, who nodded and eagerly waltzed the blonde   
  
beauty away.  
  
"Er, Mina, the correct expression is 'you don't know you are missing,"  
  
Amy corrected gently, before noticing that her friend was otherwise   
  
occupied, and completely unaware of her error.  
  
"No, I believe she was correct the first time, Amy, I think Kunz DOES  
  
know what he's missing, "Jadeite commented slyly, nudging his solemn   
  
friend in the ribs, and noting the slightly wistful expression on his  
  
face.  
  
Then, suddenly, Kunzite rose confidently and requested to cut in,   
  
whisking a thrilled Mina away to the rhythm of one of Chopin's "Grande  
  
Valses."  
  
Nephrite, Jadeite, Zoicite and Darien just stared at him, eyebrows   
  
looking as though they'd be raised permanently. Who could have ever   
  
dreamed that Kunzite, their Kunzite, would possess enough gumption to  
  
cut in on a girl and her dancing partner, to exhibit initiative where   
  
a GIRL was concerned, no less?  
  
Soon, Zoicite gathered the courage to ask Amy out for a walk in the   
  
castle's gardens, that they might explore the myriad flora and fauna   
  
present in such an extensive collection of flowers and plants. She   
  
quietly agreed, and they walked out the tall French doors.   
  
Nephrite simply asked Lita to "cut a rag" with him, and as they danced   
  
companionably, Jadeite started, rather unsuccessfully, trying to   
  
tease and goad Raye into being his dancing partner.   
  
She barely acknowledged him, giving snide, single-word responses to   
  
everything he said, and her eyes seemed to shoot flames at him, but  
  
he continued, completely undaunted.  
  
Seeing Lita and Mina with sweet, content expressions on their faces as  
  
they danced with their men, Serena sighed happily.  
  
"That is certainly a unique pair- happy-go-lucky, Mary Sunshine Mina   
  
with that giggle strong and silent Kunzite? But they look so happy,  
  
even though he doesn't seem to be in the habit of smiling."  
  
"Oh, believe me, he rarely does," Darien chuckled, and then at the   
  
bemused expression on Serena's face, he finished lamely, "at least,   
  
in the few times I've met him."  
  
But she was again looking at her friends. "Amy and Zoicite, Lita and  
  
Nephrite," she said, testing the names out together on her tongue.  
  
"Say, what if Darien thought he might like to dance with Serena?" her   
  
handsome companion asked quietly.   
  
"Say, since when did Darien start referring to himself and Serena in  
  
the third person?" she replied, turning to him and giggling.  
  
  
  
"Since Serena started asking irrelevant and silly questions. Well,  
  
what about it?" he asked again.  
  
She snorted. "Not if you don't want me to make a complete fool out   
  
of us both, no."  
  
"Well, as talented as you are, I sincerely doubt you could make   
  
fools out of two people who already are..." he replied, grinning.  
  
"How dare you!" she exclaimed angrily, then noting the twinkle in   
  
his eyes, and realizing that he was insulting himself as much as   
  
her, she began to laugh along with him.  
  
"Come along, Serena, we practiced so many times in your father's  
  
study. Just give it a try, if you hate it (translation: if you   
  
step on my toes to the point of serious damage) we'll sit down, I  
  
promise," he coaxed softly.  
  
@  
  
"Oh, all right, the things I do for you," she grumbled finally, taking  
  
his hand as he led her onto the floor.  
  
  
  
She felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body as his right arm   
  
wrapped around her waist, and his left hand intertwined with her right,  
  
her left lifting the skirt of her gown off the ground.  
  
And the dance began; he led her through the waltz, never wavering in   
  
his sure, certain steps. She had to do next to nothing, as he very   
  
nearly carried her around the room. In the study back at her mansion,  
  
it had been a sight more difficult for them to do this; they had to   
  
maneuver around furniture, and she'd stubbed her toe a good many times.  
  
But now, on this open floor, with Darien holding her close as they   
  
waltzed to a divine tune she could not name, she understood the   
  
wondrous, giddy feeling in her head that Mina had whispered about  
  
during school so many times in reference to her rendezvous with young   
  
men.  
  
She looked around, and over Darien's shoulder, spotting her friends   
  
here and there. Mirabelle! Jadeite had actually managed to drag Raye  
  
out onto the floor; now they were dancing gracefully, and Raye's sour  
  
expression had given way to a rather... different... one.  
  
Suddenly, she felt her face grow hot, and sure enough, when she turned  
  
to look at Darien, she found that he was gazing straight at her with  
  
that inexplicable light in his beautiful eyes. How was it that with   
  
just his eyes he could create any number of delicious feelings in the   
  
pit of her stomach? What was this power that he possessed over her?   
  
"I must say, madam, you do waltz divinely," he murmured, sending   
  
delightful tremors coursing through her with the velvet that was his  
  
voice.  
  
"Well, I have only my graceful partner to thank, I suppose," she   
  
replied, smiling shyly but never losing eye contact. She could drown  
  
in that sea of blue...  
  
"Only 'suppose'? Then I shall simply have to eliminate any remaining   
  
doubts, non?" he teased lightly, while suddenly increasing the   
  
intensity and speed with which he spun her around the floor.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A silver-haired man watched the couples waltz about, heard the   
  
laughter, the myriad conversations taking place around him. This   
  
was turning out to be rather tedious, and if he had to smile at   
  
another nobleman's ugly daughter he would gag. Suddenly he spotted   
  
an indefinably beautiful young lady some distance away. She was   
  
waltzing about with Darien- ast, could that be the girl, Serena,   
  
he had heard so much about from the young man? What had he been   
  
going on about? She was breathtaking, and her beauty left him   
  
knowing only one thing for certain- he wanted her, and by the gods,  
  
he would have her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Serena felt herself growing ever dizzier, and yet somehow, she had  
  
never felt more alive in her life. Never more alive, more protected,  
  
more utterly secure, then when he glided about with her in his arms.  
  
Suddenly, she felt a change in her environment, and with effort she  
  
broke the chasm between his eyes and her own to look around. They  
  
were outdoors now, in the gardens; how had they ever gotten out   
  
there?   
  
"Darien?" she asked timidly. She was about to faint, surely, but   
  
she wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of having to revive her,   
  
and accompany her revival with a mocking comment or two.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"How about I lead for a while?"  
  
"Are you quite certain you can handle it?" he inquired tantalizingly.  
  
"Quite certain, thank you," she replied in complete gravity, although  
  
she laughed inwardly. What a rogue he was!  
  
"Then, milady, be my guest," he said with a flourish, and immediately   
  
felt as though he were going to fall, crash into something, or if he   
  
was truly lucky, both.  
  
She pranced about, with him holding on for dear life, and without any  
  
clear idea of what she was doing. Mina had certainly made it seem   
  
a great deal easier than this, to be sure!  
  
"Er, Serena," began Darien, feeling a sense of impending disaster,   
  
as he glanced behind her.  
  
"Oh, hush, Darien, just be patient. I'll get the knack of this soon  
  
enough!" she said impatiently, continuing with her attempts to lead   
  
him.  
  
"Serena-" he tried again.  
  
"Darien! Be quiet and let me concentrate!!" she said, scrunching up   
  
her face and maneuvering backward with intense scrutiny.  
  
He grinned, and decided to simply let nature take its course.  
  
"You knave, why are you smiling like tha-a-a-AIII!"  
  
SPLASH!  
  
Spluttering and soaking wet, she suddenly found herself in a large   
  
fountain. With her legs hanging over the side, and blond hair   
  
covering her face, she probably resembled a drowned rat.  
  
"You could have TOLD me there was a fountain behind me, you scoundrel!"  
  
she exclaimed angrily.  
  
"I tried, and you know it. You CANNOT say I didn't try   
  
to warn you," Darien replied, gazing down at her, the corners of   
  
his lips twitching uncontrollably. He felt a bubble expanding slowly  
  
within him...  
  
"Oh, don't you dare, just don't you dare start-" she began furiously.  
  
The bubble burst, and he broke down.  
  
"Laughing," she finished, looking daggers at him. He didn't notice,   
  
for tears of unadulterated mirth were streaming down his face.  
  
"Oh gods, that was classic, griping at me for 'disrupting your   
  
concentration' and then, SPLASH! Oh dear heaven above," he said   
  
breathlessly, holding his sides for support.  
  
She, in turn, sat there, muttering, of which a few words (which   
  
sounded like immature, inexcusable, gentleman, and revenge) were   
  
loud enough for Darien to hear.  
  
"Listen...Sere...na," he tried to stop laughing and appease her, but   
  
simply broke down again, sinking to his knees, and putting a hand to   
  
his chest in an effort to steady his breathing.  
  
"I don't have to take this, especially from you, of all people!"   
  
Serena cried, flushing brighter than she already was.   
  
She spotted a tall statue, depicting a romantic rendezvous between  
  
two long-limbed sweethearts, beside her in the fountain. How   
  
appropriate, she thought dryly, before beginning to climb onto it.   
  
She couldn't very well get out of the fountain just yet, considering  
  
that the bottom half of her dress was rather wet, so she might as   
  
well climb to the top of the statue and wait for her gown to dry,   
  
and for Darien to return to the world of mature adults. Honestly,  
  
it wasn't THAT funny, she thought defensively, as she climbed into   
  
the hollow between the bodies of the two stone lovers.  
  
"Are you quite finished yet, Mr. Shields?" she asked haughtily,   
  
although her face was still a bright shade of crimson. This was e  
  
ven worse than all her conflicts with the broken stair put together!  
  
He looked up at her from his position on the ground, and slowly   
  
his hearty laughs subsided into quiet chuckles, and eventually he   
  
regained his composure entirely.  
  
"Hmph!" she tossed her head, refusing to look at the man who was   
  
the cause of her sheer mortification- well, perhaps not, maybe   
  
just a smidgen of it was her fault, but only a smidgen.  
  
"Serena, I'm sorry," Darien said carefully, knowing that he was   
  
treading on very shaky ground, as she was still steaming.   
  
No response.  
  
"Please, I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing at the humor of   
  
the situation," he tried again lamely, knowing how artificial and false   
  
that sounded, even to his own ears.  
  
Her head remained averted.  
  
"Well," he sighed, "I suppose there's only one thing left to do."  
  
SPLASH!  
  
This caught her attention.  
  
At the foot of the statue she saw Darien, completely sopping wet from   
  
head to toe.   
  
She began giggling at the sight of his initiation into her "Drowned   
  
Rat Society." And what an initiation it was- he had gone all out,   
  
thus rendering his entire body soaked.  
  
He stood up in the fountain and just looked at her. What a sight!   
  
His dripping white shirt clung to his lean and muscled frame, outlining  
  
his rock-hard chest and sculpted body. His hair, glistening with   
  
beads of water, shone in the moonlight and his eyes simply gleamed.  
  
Little did she know, as she stared appreciatively at his godlike   
  
form that his thoughts, too, were taking a rather scandalous route.   
  
He gazed up at her shining gold-spun hair, the white dress that now   
  
embraced her slim and beautifully shaped legs, and noted the pale,   
  
translucent curves of her neck, the healthy pink that stained her   
  
cheeks and lips as she laughed. Indeed an angel, he thought, nothing  
  
but an angel.  
  
"I hope you do not take my laughter to mean that I've forgiven you,"  
  
she pouted, shivering slightly as the cold air seeped through her   
  
wet dress.   
  
"Serena, I'm sorry, I really am," an equally wet Darien repeated, as   
  
he began climbing up the statue to where she was perched.  
  
He carefully made his way to where she sat and braced himself with his  
  
feet in two small crevices between the stone youth and maiden (AN:   
  
this is a little awkward, try and use your imagination if it confuses   
  
you. The basic point is- she is sitting, and he is standing in front of   
  
her with his feet shoulder-length apart, hooked on two opposite structures).  
  
"Serena, please accept my apology, it is truly sincere, I promise,"   
  
Darien said softly.   
  
"You devil! I can't remain properly angry with you when you look like  
  
that," she said exasperatedly, as she lightly punched him in the shoulder.  
  
As she withdrew her hand after the playful gesture, her intricate crystal  
  
bracelet caught on a thread of his suit.   
  
"Oh!" she said, frowning, as she leaned forward to yank it off, but   
  
found that the thread was wrapped around her bracelet. Darien didn't  
  
speak.  
  
She creased her brow in concentration and leaned in even closer as she  
  
worked to undo the knot, and was startled to feel Darien's warm breath  
  
on her face. She hadn't quite realized just how close they were.  
  
Suddenly she looked up at him, and almost fell out of the statue from   
  
shock at the closeness of his face. His eyes seemed to burn with   
  
something akin to passion, deep fiery passion...  
  
He murmured something very quietly, and then at an infinitesimally slow  
  
rate, his lips came closer, closer...  
  
Her eyes went wide for a moment at the first touch, and then fluttered  
  
shut, as small, sweet brushes gave way to a kiss that blotted out   
  
every memory, every thought she'd ever had. All she knew were his   
  
lips on hers, and the sensations she was swimming in. Flames of   
  
ecstasy and warmth licked her heart as his tongue gently ran over   
  
her swollen lips. The taste of dark chocolate flooded her, as he   
  
tilted her head to increase the ardor of his skillful touch. She let  
  
his tongue plunge deep within the warm, sweet recesses of her mouth   
  
and one arm went tightly around her waist, holding her as if to never   
  
let go, while his other hand softly caressed her satin cheek, and traced  
  
golden waves through her hair.  
  
When had she ever felt like this? When had anyone or anything had   
  
this indefinable power that Darien had, to make her body go flaming   
  
hot and then icy cold, to make her dizzy with sheer delight? True,   
  
she'd never been kissed before this glorious night, but she felt that  
  
she was somewhat knowledgeable about these things, from the scores of  
  
times Mina had talked about them. And their sweet, heavenly embrace   
  
went on.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A few meters away...  
  
"No, I must disagree, the chrysanthemums are infinitely more pleasing.  
  
Their name in itself belies their majesty and perfection," stated a  
  
petite, dainty girl with short blue hair.  
  
"Yet I still remain true to my conviction that carnations are by far   
  
the most beautiful of the blossoms; why, they are-ar-o-oh, well, will  
  
you look at that?" Her companion, who sported blonde hair tied back  
  
in a queue, was all set to make his counterargument, when something   
  
over the young lady's shoulder caught his attention rather abruptly,   
  
and he left off what he was saying with an expression of pure wonder.  
  
Amy turned around, and the sight that met her eyes sent her falling   
  
back into Zoicite's arms.  
  
"Dear heavens above!" she exclaimed softly. Then her pale face   
  
lighted up, and she gleefully exclaimed, "Oh, I must find the other   
  
girls! They will surely murder me in my bed if they find that I let  
  
them miss this!" and she skittered back into the ballroom.  
  
Zoicite simply stood there. As if the sight on the other side of   
  
the garden hadn't shocked him enough, the uncanny, almost mischievous  
  
expression on Amy's face as she left him was simply baffling.   
  
It had only been two months, but he had never, ever seen her look   
  
anything but perfectly placid and calm, occasionally allowing a   
  
smile to grace her countenance.  
  
Then, he realized Amy had the right idea, and rushed off to find   
  
Kunzite, Jadeite and Nephrite.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"How is she able to breathe with his tongue down in her throat like   
  
that?" whispered a voice from behind the bushes.  
  
"Lita!!!" another distinctly female voice gasped softly, scandalized.  
  
"Whaaaaat? It's a reasonable question, you know. I was just wondering,"  
  
the tall, pretty girl with a brown ponytail protested.  
  
"Jadeite, I am requesting you for the last time to KEEP YOUR HANDS TO   
  
YOURSELF!" came an especially furious whisper from a girl with a   
  
gorgeous cascade of jet black hair.  
  
"But what am I supposed to hold on to for balance, then?" her   
  
tormentor's devilish voice attempted innocence.  
  
"Both of you, be quiet! They're going to hear you!" warned a blonde  
  
girl who looked remarkably like Serena. The serious man beside her  
  
nodded fervently in agreement. Those fools! All four men   
  
sympathized with Raye; they knew from previous instances that   
  
Jadeite simply had no control over his wandering hands, although   
  
Raye was the first to ever complain.  
  
They all grew quiet again, and only an occasional sigh or giggle   
  
broke the silence as they took in the view before them, of Darien   
  
and Serena, both soaking wet, wrapped in a passionate embrace atop   
  
the tall statue in the middle of a fountain.  
  
* * * * *  
  
He ceased his sweet torture of her lips for a moment, her head  
  
leaning against his chest as they caught their breath, sighing into  
  
the silence.   
  
But suddenly, there was a faint rustling noise.  
  
"Did you hear something?" she asked softly.  
  
He didn't reply immediately, straining his ears to locate the source  
  
of the sound.  
  
Another similar noise, this time accompanied by a slight movement   
  
that only his sharp eyes could detect.   
  
"I don't think we're the only ones enjoying each other's, er,   
  
company," he said, frowning slightly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Instead of answering her, he carefully climbed down and helped her  
  
off the statue. She was slightly disappointed; given the choice,   
  
she could quite easily have spent the night tasting and being tasted.  
  
At this thought she blushed. My, she sounded like a- like a   
  
scarlet-woman, almost, and here she giggled nervously.  
  
Taking her hand, he led her across the garden, and she followed   
  
quietly; she felt that she could follow him anywhere, across a   
  
garden, or across the earth.   
  
"What I mean is, we have an audience," Darien said in a normal   
  
voice, and at this, she jumped, for there were a series of "Oof!"s,  
  
"Watch where you put your arm!"s, and "You clod, you stepped on   
  
my foot!"s from behind a large bush.  
  
She stepped around to the other side, and to her utter horror, 8   
  
varicolored bodies fell on top of one another right at her feet.   
  
Her mouth dropped open, and Darien raised an eyebrow in a mixture   
  
of annoyance and amusement.  
  
"Uh oh," came a rather regretful voice from somewhere in the pile of   
  
limbs.  
  
* * * * *  
  
She sighed dreamily as she took off her dress and hung it in the   
  
bathroom to finish drying. What a night! After untangling themselves,  
  
the girls had eagerly tackled her with questions about how exactly   
  
she and Darien had ended up in that "passionate embrace."   
  
Her face turned crimson for what must have been the fiftieth time   
  
that evening. She had been made to repeat every word, every gesture,  
  
every tiny detail, but these girls were her sisters, so she supposed  
  
it wasn't too bad. But really, was nothing sacred? She and Darien  
  
had avoided eye contact after that, for they knew that nothing was   
  
what it had been before.   
  
Her parents had looked at her rather skeptically upon seeing the   
  
slight wetness of her dress, and she simply said that she had tripped  
  
and fallen into the fountain, and Darien had helped her out, and   
  
thus gotten rather wet too. It was mostly the truth, after all, with  
  
just the events between her accident and his coming to her aid   
  
omitted- more specifically, that kiss...   
  
She still tingled when she thought of it, and this was a full two   
  
hours later, nearly midnight. Where would they go from here, now   
  
that their purely tutor-pupil relationship was in shreds? What   
  
were they to each other now? she wondered as she pulled on her pink  
  
satin nightgown and settled into bed.  
  
Normally, she looked forward to sleep and the beautiful dreams that  
  
accompanied it, but now as she drifted off, she thought- no dream  
  
could be so beautiful as to match the splendid, thrilling reality   
  
she now knew... 


	5. On the use of Pillows as weapons

Despite her excited rapture from the evening's developments, sleep   
  
claimed Serena quite quickly. And yet, it couldn't have been a very   
  
deep slumber, for it was a rather soft noise that woke her only a half  
  
an hour later.   
  
Tap, tap, tap.  
  
What in the world? she thought very drowsily, stirring slowly from her  
  
pleasant state. What was that? Don't tell me I'm so happy I'm   
  
bordering on delirium!  
  
Tap, tap, tap.  
  
Alright, I couldn't have imagined that, she resolved. The discreet   
  
noise seemed to be coming from the balcony.   
  
The balcony? Oh, no! Thieves! she thought in horror. Then she   
  
recomposed herself quickly, grabbed a pillow from the bed, and rose to  
  
quietly creep towards the balcony. Why a thief would call attention to  
  
himself by deliberately tapping on the glass door, she did not stop to consider. All she knew was, if her midnight visitor was whom she   
  
thought, she was ready for him.   
  
Upon reaching the door, she carefully turned the brass knob, and pulled   
  
the door open slowly...  
  
Without another thought, she brought her pillow down with amazing force   
  
upon the head of the tall figure standing there.   
  
"Sere- what? What are-? Stop, it's just m- would you stop HITTING ME  
  
with that thing???" a harassed voice protested in a loud whisper, as   
  
she struck the intruder over the head several times with her large,   
  
floppy weapon. She desisted upon realizing just whose very familiar   
  
voice it was.  
  
"Dar-DARIEN? What in heaven's name are y-mmph!" she shrieked; her eyes  
  
widened in shock, and he desperately tried to muffle her stunned   
  
exclamation with a hand over her mouth. Damn, he thought ruefully,  
  
maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...  
  
As soon as he released the pressure of his hand over her mouth, she   
  
lit into him.  
  
"Darien Shields! What in the world do you think you're doing?" she   
  
started furiously, jabbing her index finger into his chest and   
  
furiously pushing him across the balcony until he felt the cold   
  
clamminess of the railing against his lower back.   
  
"Serena, please, try and lower your voice," he pleaded in a hushed   
  
voice. Definitely, definitely not such a good idea...  
  
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN LOWER MY VOICE? What were you thinking, just   
  
bursting in here like that?" she continued, not paying the slightest   
  
attention to his attempts to shush her, or to the fact that he hadn't  
  
actually burst in at all, but tried to enter as quietly as possible.   
  
The fact that she was making more noise than he ever had escaped her  
  
notice quite admirably.  
  
"Serena, your parents are going to be up here in a minute, and then   
  
this whole scheme is going to go to waste..." he tried again. What   
  
to do? What to do? She clearly had no intentions of ceasing her   
  
tirade anytime soon.  
  
"Do you have any IDEA how you scared me?? Insensitive boor. I swear,  
  
I really wonder why I was even attracted to you in the first   
  
pla-a-mmmmm..." she was suddenly cut off by the warm, delicious   
  
pressure of his lips on hers. This was why, she reminded herself wryly,  
  
among a good number of other things. He turned them slowly, his mouth  
  
still on hers, and leaned her deeply over the railing. And then she   
  
lost the ability to think altogether...  
  
Some minutes later, he released her face, grinning at the bright blush  
  
that filled her cheeks with rosy color, and the sparkles scattered in   
  
her blue eyes. She regained her footing and caught her breath slowly.   
  
"Well, at least I've found a better way to get you to keep quiet, hm?"   
  
he teased, a wicked gleam appearing in his smile. He leaned his hands   
  
against the railing on either side of her waist, effectively trapping  
  
her in the circle of his arms.   
  
"Oh, hush! I'm still mad enough to throw you over the side of the   
  
balcony," she said sulkily. "Goodness, Darien, I thought you were a   
  
thief!" She pouted cutely, but fortunately for him, he had averted   
  
his gaze, so the devastating effect of her downturned lips was   
  
completely lost on him.  
  
"And I assume that THIS was your very intimidating weapon against the  
  
would-be burglar?" he inquired with a sardonic lift of the brow, as  
  
he picked up her innocent white pillow from where it had fallen during their...ahem, during their moment of emotional bonding.   
  
"It's all I had! And besides, it was only supposed to be a distraction!"  
  
she blushed, trying in vain to justify her choice of weaponry. Really,  
  
Serena! she chided herself inwardly. A pillow? That was certainly   
  
very potent blackmail for his benefit in the future, she realized   
  
regretfully.  
  
"Anyway, pillows and thieves aside, what were you saying earlier about  
  
being attracted to me?" he asked, suddenly looked at her very   
  
interestedly. Uh oh. He leaned in even closer to peer closely into  
  
her face, his handsome features illuminated subtly by the enigmatic  
  
moonlight. Double uh oh.   
  
"My, Darien, I don't know...what WAS I saying?" she countered pointedly.   
  
I won't admit a thing, not a thing, until I know for certain how he   
  
feels first. Remember Raye, Serena, remember Raye.  
  
"As you like it. What you said wasn't important, in any case. Your  
  
response during both of our," he cleared his throat deliberately,  
  
"encounters today told me more than words ever could."  
  
Instead of responding, she pushed him away and went back inside,   
  
lightly jumping onto her bed, and was grateful that the cloak of   
  
darkness hid the blush creeping over her face. He followed her in   
  
and stood a few feet away from her.  
  
Settling herself comfortably on the deliciously soft down comforter,  
  
she stalled for a precious moment as she gathered her thoughts.   
  
"Yes, well, I wouldn't take too many liberties in interpreting those   
  
'encounters,' if I were you." she began carefully, taking hold one of  
  
the many pillows on her bed, and unconsciously wringing an edge of it  
  
in her hands.   
  
"After all, what is a kiss, really? It's just a touch. Granted, a   
  
sweet one, but when all's said and done, it's just lips meeting.   
  
People give handshakes when they meet someone, that's a touch of hands,"   
  
she continued, the strength with which she twisted the pillow increasing, "people brush against each other in crowded streets, that's a touch of shoulders, people kiss each other, that's a touch of lips. Why is two  
  
pairs of lips meeting any different from shoulders or hands? I think  
  
everyone makes too much of this kissing nonsense. What IS all the   
  
fuss about?" she finished, feeling that for once she had bested him.   
  
So then why did it seem she was convincing herself more than him?   
  
There was a long pause, in which she just looked rather uncertainly   
  
at his large, powerfully built frame silhouetted by the moonlight outside.  
  
As if he didn't look intimidating enough already!  
  
"Just remember, you asked the question, not me," he replied quietly,   
  
and with that, he closed the distance between them, caught her face   
  
in his hands, and covered her delicate rose-petal mouth in a searing   
  
kiss that made the last one seem as fleeting and airy as an echo.   
  
It was just raw, unadulterated passion, energy that she could never   
  
imagine, as fiery and wholesome as the majestic flames of Raye's   
  
sacrificial fire, but even more awe-inspiring for this fire was within  
  
the two of them, expanding slowly, warmly, to hold them both in a   
  
bubble of ecstasy.   
  
As for Darien, he too wondered at the power he felt as he tilted her   
  
head with one shapely, strong hand and deepened the kiss as he cradled  
  
her sweet, small body. He leaned over and sank with her under him   
  
into the softness of the bed. It was as though he was pouring into her  
  
all the emotion and feeling that he had finally found, after it eluded  
  
his heart for nineteen years. The depth of expression that he had now discovered, after he pushed it away for so long, was revealing itself  
  
in all its glory at this moment.  
  
After a long while, he released her, and rolled over to lie next to her,  
  
leaning on his side to look at her.  
  
"That is what all the fuss is about," he said very softly, staring   
  
into her eyes with an expression she couldn't quite fathom. Strange,   
  
he thought, that he should say such a thing with so much confidence,   
  
as though he were the ultimate authority on a subject that, till now,  
  
he had never thought of, or cared for.   
  
But clearly, Serena was having more of an effect on him than ought   
  
to be allowed by law, so it wasn't really that much of a surprise,   
  
he reflected amusedly, noting the rosiness of her normally pale face.  
  
She smiled contentedly, shyly at him and lay her head against his   
  
chest, and that little gesture spoke volumes about the new tune her  
  
heart was singing, and more importantly, told him that he was really  
  
in some danger of losing...Suddenly, she sat up, and her cutely pink   
  
cheeks were paper white.  
  
"Oh god! What am I doing? Darien, I can't do this! My parents   
  
would just- I don't even want to think of what my father would say!"   
  
Serena burst out, as she jumped off the bed and started frenziedly   
  
pacing the room, muttering phrases like "no honor" and "going to   
  
kill me". He calmly leaned back against the headboard and waited   
  
for the second tirade of the night to end.   
  
"This is ridiculous- only a tramp, or, or a- well, only a bad woman   
  
would lie around on a bed kissing a man she wasn't even married to.   
  
Oh, how did I end up in this situation?" she stopped pacing, and he  
  
was stunned to see that she had tears in her eyes.   
  
Immediately, he rose from his lazy, lounging position on her bed,   
  
and folded her trembling figure in his arms. Her arms hesitantly,  
  
timidly went about his neck, and she gave quick, quiet little sobs   
  
against his chest. He felt her fervent, distressed cries strike some  
  
chord in his heart that he had believed was long forgotten.   
  
"Shh, shh," he whispered soothingly, stroking her tumbled hair gently,  
  
"You're far from a tramp, Serena. What I said earlier, about you   
  
being an angel- that was real, I meant it," he murmured gently in her   
  
ear, "You are the most important person in my life right now, and I   
  
care for you deeply, so don't you dare say such things about yourself."  
  
Slowly, the sobs subsided and she remained quietly wrapped in his   
  
embrace. He sounded so sincere, his arms were so strong and   
  
unyieldingly protective, his eyes so perfectly honest and loving...  
  
maybe it was alright.   
  
"If it makes you feel better, I will never kiss you on your bed in   
  
the dead of the night again, and that's a promise," he added, with a   
  
little teasing note in his voice that was oddly comforting. Her   
  
apprehension vanished.  
  
It was more than alright. And suddenly, a misty lavender veil lifted   
  
from her eyes and a breathtaking dawn shone before her, its brilliance  
  
almost blinding and the knowledge it brought frightened her with its   
  
potency, but now she knew...  
  
"Darien?"   
  
He released his tight hold around her waist and pulled back to look at   
  
her questioningly, while wiping away the remaining traces of her drying  
  
tears with tender fingers. She caught his hand in its path trailing   
  
down her face and brought it to her lips, kissing it with all the   
  
gentleness she felt within.  
  
Then, her honest gaze never leaving his face, she released his hand   
  
and smiled, and her face was filled with sincere, shining happiness   
  
that no one and nothing else had ever inspired in her. The sparkling   
  
honesty of that smile made Darien feel as though he were standing in an intensely strong wind with nothing to keep him from flying away.  
  
"I love you."  
  
He froze. Never in his life had he dreamed of hearing those words from  
  
anyone, and now...this heavenly creature was offering her beautiful,   
  
perfectly pure heart to him with both hands and with no doubt or   
  
reservation at all.   
  
She was giving to him something that she had never given to anyone else  
  
in her life before him- not her parents, her brother, her friends; no   
  
one had ever experienced the warmth and sanctity of that devotion.   
  
Her innocence, her beauty, her vivacity, her intelligence, her sense of  
  
humor- it was all a part of that golden present she was giving him,   
  
and yet there was an indefinable something else as well, a something   
  
that surpassed all of those other beautiful qualities, that was the   
  
essence of Serena. God, what could he do? What could he say that   
  
would be a fitting response to such an earth-shattering utterance?  
  
"Serena, I lo-" he began a little uncertainly. "I lov-" he tried again,  
  
but she covered his mouth with two slender, cool fingers.  
  
"Shh, Darien. Don't say it just yet...I don't know if you truly mean   
  
it, and I couldn't bear hearing it from you if you didn't," she said   
  
hurriedly, fingers caressing his full lips absently as she spoke.   
  
"Just wait...a while, and when you feel that it has fully blossomed   
  
inside you, then tell me, and we can share the bliss of a perfectly   
  
blood-red rose, the rose of love triumphant, together," she continued,   
  
eyes shining with excitement.   
  
As she spoke, her fingers traveled up to brush away the ink-black   
  
strands of hair that always fell carelessly across his brow, to caress  
  
his finely shaped cheekbones, to trace along his flawlessly modeled   
  
jaw line.  
  
"There isn't any hurry... after all, as far as I can see, we have   
  
forever, don't we?" she asked, smiling gently.   
  
"Yes, forever..." Forever with her. God, how he loved the sound of   
  
that! So why couldn't he tell her? Why was he so unable to sing out   
  
the irrepressible joy he attained just from being near her?   
  
She was so small, so fragile, so innocent and yet somehow strong enough  
  
to face the endless, eternally deep chasm that was love, strong enough  
  
to swim in that boundless ocean of friendship, passion, understanding   
  
and warmth that he seemed so afraid of.  
  
Fear. Another emotion that was entirely new in his experience. So   
  
many times, he had been alone, in danger during a mission for Diamond,   
  
with his life and the king's honor at stake, but never once had fear   
  
entered his mind or heart. Wariness, yes; slight apprehension, yes;   
  
but never, ever fear. That was for the weaker, lesser mortals. Had   
  
he joined their ranks now?  
  
"It's getting late, Serena. I had better go before someone finds us   
  
like...like this. Goodnight, my darling." He kissed her briefly,   
  
possessively, and for a moment it seemed that he would never let her   
  
go, couldn't let her go, for the sake of his sanity, his life. But   
  
then he released her and walked out, quietly shutting the door behind  
  
him.   
  
"Goodnight, Darien," she whispered. Slowly, she walked to the bed and   
  
collapsed into it, pulling her covers securely around herself.   
  
"My love," she said very softly into the darkness. "But will I ever   
  
be yours?"   
  
And as she fell into the shadowed world of sleep, she tried to forget   
  
that those three magical words had never left his lips. 


	6. A Discovery to Shatter it All

The next morning I walked into Father's study, a little early for my   
  
morning lesson. Darien was sitting at the large mahogany desk, and he   
  
started when I entered the room. His handsomely tanned face turned a   
  
little pale, and he shuffled the papers on the desk haphazardly as he   
  
rose to greet me.   
  
" 'Morning, Darien," I said shyly as I curtsied. The pallor of his   
  
face had confused me, for why would he look so...guilty? But then I   
  
realized what must have returned to the fore of his mind upon my   
  
appearance.   
  
"Good Morning, Serena," he returned smoothly with a smile, bowing   
  
deeply.   
  
"Darien... about last night..." I began, determining to clear the air,  
  
for the previous evening's events were still more than a little   
  
startling to us both, I knew.   
  
"Yes, I've been meaning to discuss that with you," he began in a   
  
slightly muted tone, after he cleared his throat, "Serena, it was   
  
extremely inappropriate for me to...to sneak into your room as I did,   
  
and even to kiss you in public, and in the king's palace, no less. It  
  
was unseemly behavior on my part, as I am supposed to be educating you   
  
in the matters of moral clarity and decorum, as well as everything else,  
  
and that was very hypocritical of me, after all my lectures to you   
  
about conducting yourself like a lady. I can assure you that I shall   
  
not allow such misconduct ever again."  
  
I suddenly felt very empty. Never again? Had it meant nothing to him,  
  
save an excellent example of "unseemly behavior," then? I felt   
  
something prick my eyes, and I shut them quickly, as I slowly nodded to   
  
show that I understood, even if I didn't agree with a single word.   
  
Suddenly, a hand lifted my chin, and a pair of the most exquisite blue  
  
eyes met my own. They were very close to my face, and the light of   
  
comprehension filled them.   
  
"I can also assure you that I'm damned if I didn't enjoy every moment  
  
of it and I've just gotten you to stop swearing, so there is yet   
  
another bad example I'm setting..." he whispered, a mischievous grin   
  
lighting his features, as he impishly tweaked my hair.   
  
I sighed, and all despair left me as quickly as it had come. Darling  
  
rogue, how could I have doubted him? I thought, and I flashed him a   
  
joyous smile, mocking a curtsy.  
  
Then he grew serious once more, and stepped back, "Serena, never, ever,  
  
believe that I don't cherish every single moment I spend with you, but  
  
your parents have entrusted you to my care and guidance."   
  
He put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and continued, "I cannot go back   
  
on the promise I made to your father the day I came here, that I would   
  
teach you and guide you. This is about honor, and keeping one's word,  
  
and I cannot dishonor you or myself by letting us act with abandon.   
  
Please never doubt how much I lo...care for you, but it is a matter of  
  
principle for me to not act on that concern."  
  
"Yes, Darien, I understand," I replied, smiling gently.   
  
So the next two months were perfectly wonderful. Granted, it was a   
  
little disconcerting that physically, Darien seemed to avoid me like   
  
the plague, and just cheekily gave my hair a playful tug whenever I   
  
pouted at him for being such an "fussy old fogey" about the whole matter.   
  
And yet, secretly, I admired him so much for it. His eyes were   
  
always gentle and loving when he gazed at me, but he held true to his   
  
promise of honor and never once betrayed my parents' trust by so much   
  
as touching my hand with his own. He continued to hammer Latin, French,   
  
mathematics, civics, music, etiquette and everything else into my head,  
  
but unlike before, I listened, fascinated by how much he knew about   
  
anything under the stars. I had never noticed before, having been too   
  
busy trying to figure out what new prank I could play to make his life   
  
a living nightmare.   
  
That is not to say, however, that we didn't still argue- heavens no!   
  
For us to cease fire would be like for Mother to announce that she   
  
wanted to become a bandit. We quarreled as much as always, about   
  
everything- the weather, how overbearing he was, how easily I got   
  
distracted, how arrogantly he strutted about as he recited a passage  
  
from Virgil, how hopelessly clumsy I was (this after yet another fall  
  
from the staircase, though he fortunately caught me before I could   
  
break my neck).  
  
But despite it all, things were different, and all his jokes at my   
  
expense were tempered by the twinkle in his eyes and the spirit that   
  
made it seem as though he was mocking himself as much as me. For my   
  
part, I miraculously became more graceful and all (well, most) of the  
  
"accidental" ink spills in his direction stopped, as did the attempts   
  
to make Tempest throw him from the saddle by means of a well-aimed   
  
pebble.   
  
The only thing that marred the sweet perfection of those days was the   
  
three words my heart kept waiting to hear... and yet, somehow, they   
  
never graced those dear lips I had learned to love.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Where is that frustrating man? I thought yet again, this time with   
  
much more irritation than good-natured annoyance. I'm beginning to   
  
salivate over that turkey, and Mother insists we can't start until he   
  
decides to honor us with his exalted presence!   
  
I contented myself with annoying Sammy for a few more minutes as   
  
Father discussed something with Mother, but that endeavor quickly   
  
became boring, and finally I rose, throwing my napkin on the table.   
  
Mother looked startled, as was to be expected.  
  
Argh, taking his own sweet time, is he? Well, I'm going to let him   
  
know exactly what I think of his insensitivity, I thought angrily as   
  
I stomped into the hall, leaving my scandalized parents staring after   
  
me.  
  
I stood at the foot of the staircase and cleared my throat to ensure   
  
that my voice would reach that fool wherever he might be, including   
  
Japan.  
  
"Darien Shields, you come down here this instant, or I will not be held  
  
responsible for what I do to you!!" I hollered as loudly as was humanly  
  
possible.  
  
Swish, thud! Oh, lovely, Mother had decided to swoon.  
  
"Serenity Tsukino, what is the MATTER with you? Screaming at the top   
  
of your lungs, and inside the house, no less?! I'm ashamed... so this   
  
is what years of seminary and Darien's tutelage have taught you!" I   
  
could just see my father's face turning delightfully purple in the next  
  
room as he rushed to attend to my mother.   
  
"Sorry, Father," I said, trying to fill my voice with as much artificial   
  
repentance as possible. Maybe a loud whisper was a better option.  
  
"Darien, I refuse to take anymore of this; besides, trying to whisper   
  
this loudly hurts my throat! Get down here this minute!"  
  
No answer. I could just hear my vocal chords protesting against the   
  
injustice of it all.  
  
"Fine, when I wake up MUTE in the morning, I'll have you to thank for  
  
it!" I yelled, deciding that Father's rages weren't enough to keep me  
  
from letting that fool know what I thought of him, loud and clear.  
  
  
  
Silence.  
  
(Save for the sound of my father clumsily trying to find the smelling  
  
salts and revive my unconscious mother as Sammy looked on in a daze-   
  
one would think he'd be used to scenes like this by now.)  
  
That was the last straw- the least Darien could do was honor me with   
  
some sort of indication that he had heard me! He was bloody well going  
  
to find out I was less than pleased; I plodded up the steps, and not   
  
even that treacherous broken stair (which I had given up hope of ever   
  
seeing repaired) could detain me from my mission.  
  
My skirts swished emphatically as I whirled to the right and stomped   
  
down the hall with such momentum that when I reached the perpetrator's  
  
room, I had to hold onto the door frame to keep from sliding across   
  
the far-too smooth floor.   
  
"Darien!" I shouted loudly again, standing in a rather imposing stance  
  
with hands on my hips in his doorway. Now there was absolutely NO   
  
excuse for a lack of response, yet my infuriated call still received   
  
no reply. He was probably bathing, for the room was empty, and the   
  
door on the opposite side was closed; he was probably just refusing   
  
to respond simply because he knew it would aggravate me. However,   
  
verification of this theory (by way of opening said bathroom door)   
  
was probably not quite so advisable, I resolved, while fighting off   
  
the disappointment that my ladylike scruples had once again won the   
  
battle against wicked impulses.  
  
I stood there for a few moments, trying to settle on a new course of   
  
action to make that fool learn just WHO he was standing up for dinner,  
  
when something caught my eye. On the floor a few feet away from me   
  
was a beautiful leather-bound book, a shiny brass clasp holding it   
  
closed.   
  
Instantly, my curiosity was piqued, and I quietly walked over and   
  
kneeled on the ground before it, mindful of the fact that I was   
  
technically not even supposed to be in Darien's room- the rules of   
  
decorum did not allow a young lady to enter a young man's room   
  
unaccompanied. But then again, I hadn't even considered technicalities  
  
and proprieties two months ago, when I brazenly kissed him on top of   
  
the king's fountain and thus rushed headlong into a relationship that   
  
was...err...well, more than my parents intended, I reasoned, so why   
  
fuss over decorum this late in the game? Besides, that was his job,   
  
not mine.   
  
Having reassured myself with this justification, I stared at the book,  
  
which appeared to be a journal of some sort, judging by its similarity   
  
to the diaries I'd seen in school. Again, I was at a crossroads. But   
  
this was entirely different- no proprieties holding me back here, but   
  
the fact that Darien trusted me completely, and the fact that opening   
  
his journal without his knowledge and consent was effectively destroying  
  
that slowly cultivated and very precious trust.   
  
Two spirits settled themselves comfortably on either of my shoulders;   
  
on my right was a tiny Serenity garbed in a beautiful virginal white   
  
gown and with a pair of tiny wings and a golden halo. On my left   
  
shoulder was a Serena in a shockingly low-cut ruby red gown that might   
  
have been donned by the town badwoman, but never a lady of good breeding.  
  
She looked curiously like Lucifer's sister, if he had one, and there   
  
was a gleam of unholy mischief in her dancing blue eyes, where the other  
  
Serenity's eyes were purely innocent and round.   
  
The white Serenity whispered reproachfully that I ought to do right by  
  
the man I claimed to love so dearly, put the fallen book on the desk,  
  
and skip out of the room. The scarlet-gown-bedecked Serena whispered   
  
in my other ear that I ought to read it, and serve Darien right for   
  
carelessly leaving it lying around, when he so often preached about the   
  
importance of organization and self-possession.   
  
Both arguments had their merit, but somewhere in me, I felt that I   
  
simply HAD to know what was in that journal, and it was this inner   
  
instinct, wrong and immoral as it might be, that finally made me flick  
  
off the angelic Serenity as my father flicked dust from his shoulder.   
  
My insatiably curious and naughty side wanted to know what he'd   
  
written about, and if I were really honest with myself, specifically   
  
what he had written about ME- what fun to discover exactly how much he  
  
cared.   
  
He had certainly never once favored me with that knowledge, I thought  
  
sadly, but maybe he was afraid to, perhaps he written the beautiful,  
  
dear words here. And it was this thought that finally convinced me   
  
to throw caution and principle to the wind. How could I, misguided   
  
fool that I was, have known how many other things I would lose to that  
  
wind of folly?  
  
With a furtive glance around, I picked it up slowly, silently promising  
  
myself that I would just peek inside for a moment and then replace it.  
  
I undid the clasp on the front of the book, trying to look as casual  
  
and innocent about it as possible, and flipped the cover and several   
  
pages back.  
  
*****  
  
October 23   
  
Extensive search of files in left desk drawer- all documents appear to  
  
be in order, contents lack suspicious material, province tax accounts   
  
indicate accuracy.   
  
*****  
  
I was completely confused. What documents were in order? Which left   
  
desk drawer? Surely he couldn't mean...no, of course not, I thought,   
  
shaking my head as though to rid myself of such idiotic notions. Why  
  
would Darien be searching desk drawers? And whose desk drawers? What   
  
'suspicious material' was he seeking out? The only desk I could think  
  
of was the one in Father's office...surely Darien wouldn't be rifling   
  
through it- why would he?   
  
I flipped more pages, and caught sight of mysterious phrases like   
  
"tavern meeting" and "cover-up duties" and "clandestine nature of   
  
mission jeopardized" and "no clear indications of foul play." What did   
  
it all mean? I sat there, completely puzzled, trying to sort through  
  
what I knew.  
  
Suddenly, my blood turned to ice water, and the room spun frighteningly  
  
about me. As I frenziedly turned pages and read bits here and there,   
  
my brain screamed out that I had been vilely deceived- not only me, but  
  
my parents, my family, all of us! Darien was a...was a... spy!   
  
His job as my tutor was a façade; I was a 'cover-up duty!' When I had   
  
walked into the office that morning, and he had looked so guilty for   
  
that one moment, the 'clandestine nature' of his mission had been   
  
'jeopardized.' The few times he had mysteriously disappeared during   
  
dinners- he had been at the Crossroads 'tavern meeting'...meeting   
  
whoever it was he was spying with or for! Oh gods, it was all a lie!   
  
A nightmarish, glaring...  
  
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"   
  
I gasped from sheer shock and sprang to my feet. Turning around, my  
  
heart stopped as I slowly looked up into the coldly furious eyes of   
  
the man who had been coolly lying to me and everyone else for nearly   
  
the past year.   
  
"You sneaky minx! Give me that, you little fool! Thought you'd snoop  
  
around in my things, did you?" he asked in a voice that shook with rage  
  
for all its quietness, as he snatched the open journal from my hand.   
  
As speechless as I had been to see him, all the more dangerous and large  
  
in his fury, looming above me, that epithet gave me back use of my tongue.  
  
"Me?! You DARE come back here and call me a sneaky minx? Who in hell   
  
has been lying to whom for the last year? Who has been professing   
  
concern for my welfare, my education, my everything? Who took me in his   
  
arms on top of a damn fountain in the king's palace and kissed me   
  
senseless? Who betrayed my trust, stole everything that truly mattered   
  
to me, and broke it to bits?" By now I was crying as I spoke in hushed,  
  
furious whispers, tears of rage and pain streaming freely down my face.   
  
The book fell from his hands, and slipped to the ground, unheeded by   
  
either of us, and he unconsciously gripped my shoulders as his eyes   
  
snapped with quivering anger.  
  
"Who," I gasped for breath, choking on the endless sobs that filled my  
  
throat, "Who crept into my room in the dead of the night, and swore   
  
that I was the most important thing in his life?" I grabbed the   
  
lapels of his shirt and tugged roughly, demanding, "And who, the very  
  
next day, preached to me about the folly of our behavior, about he   
  
had to honor my parents' trust in him? Trust?! TRUST?! You wouldn't   
  
know trust if you met it in the street!"  
  
"I don't know what trust is? You're one to talk, madam, considering   
  
that if you valued it so much, you wouldn't even be here screaming at   
  
me! You thought it might be fun to explore my belongings, did you not,  
  
my little hypocrite, when you KNEW you had no right to? How in God's   
  
name is that honesty?" His eyes had darkened to near-black and they   
  
glittered with barely-suppressed violence.   
  
I staggered back, half-afraid and half-incensed, but the realization   
  
that he was right about my hypocrisy was quickly shoved away by my   
  
intense sorrow that he hadn't meant one word, one gesture in all the   
  
time he had been here, in all the time I had been slowly falling in   
  
love with him.   
  
Strange, how even though we both spoke in hushed tones, mindful of   
  
ears around the house, the words themselves were full of enough force  
  
to destroy everything.  
  
Trembling from head to foot, I choked out, "You low-down, cowardly,   
  
two-faced... I can't even think of anything bad enough to call you!"   
  
Frustrated at the inadequacy of my words, I gave him a resounding slap   
  
across the face, and found mixed comfort and horror at the red print   
  
of my palm on his face, pale even under his tan.   
  
"I advise you NOT to try that again, or I shall be forced to end my   
  
policy of never laying a hand on a woman," he growled in a low voice,  
  
black eyes filling with something I couldn't understand, "Spoiled   
  
little brat, how in hell could you understand what is at stake? Stars  
  
above, Merylia's entire future..."   
  
His voice grew even quieter, even more dangerous, "Tax fraud isn't a   
  
petty little tidbit to giggle over with your dizzy friends- it means   
  
greed, and the corruption that greed spells can destroy empires! Have  
  
you learnt nothing from me at all about the fall of the great dynasties?  
  
Of course, how could you? Your head's too full of your own pleasures,  
  
your own wants, to ever think of anyone else, let alone something as   
  
lofty as the destiny of this kingdom!"  
  
"There's more than one type of corruption- what about betrayal?" I   
  
countered, stung by the harshness of his words, "Betrayal of a person   
  
who loves you, LOVES you- isn't that treason as much as cheating on   
  
taxes? Or does that not figure into your worldly, high-handed moral   
  
philosophy?"  
  
"Nice try, but you can't accuse me of any breach of trust you aren't   
  
guilty of yourself, my dear," he remarked cuttingly. "And, by the way,  
  
there's no such thing as love, so you'd best be ridding yourself of   
  
that romantic misconception- the sooner, the better," he finished,   
  
stabbing my heart one last time, and twisting his gold-hilted dagger  
  
painfully for effect.   
  
"You...you monster..," I whispered, shaking my head slowly, unwilling  
  
to believe that he could profane that which I held most dear- my   
  
feelings for him. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and as the   
  
salty sweet taste of blood filled my mouth, I closed my eyes,   
  
unwilling to spare another glance at the...the creature standing before  
  
me.   
  
"Get out."  
  
He simply bent over and picked up his cursed journal. I opened my eyes,   
  
to meet his, filled with some emotion, some expression I couldn't fathom.  
  
"I said, get OUT. And don't ever come back," my voice wavered, but   
  
the words were deadly.  
  
He looked at me in such a way as he never had before- and with that gaze,  
  
he stole everything I had left of the old Serena, and left in her place  
  
a stranger. Then, without another word, he stormed out.   
  
As the thudding of his tall leather boots slowly faded into the   
  
distance, I felt the glow that had enveloped me in its golden warmth   
  
for two beautiful months leave the same way, fading into the distance,  
  
lost with Darien, forever.   
  
My back sank against the wall, and slowly, painfully, I slid to the  
  
ground. My whole frame shivered desperately, for suddenly, it was   
  
cold. So cold. Ugly, harsh sobs left my throat, in a voice I couldn't  
  
even recognize. It was as though someone else was snatching the   
  
lifeblood from yet someone else's screaming body, and I was simply   
  
sitting there, my knees crushed to my chest, watching. And horrifyingly,  
  
that someone and their victim, at first only shadows, gradually   
  
turned into a terribly handsome man with intense blue eyes, his hands  
  
tearing cries of agony from a girl with miles of golden hair, her   
  
body crumpled on the floor.  
  
It was much later when padded, soft footsteps suddenly reached my   
  
tired ears, and I pulled my hands from a tear-streaked, deathly pale   
  
face, only to look into the kind features of Luna, her eyes filled   
  
with quiet sympathy and shared pain. She kneeled before me, and after  
  
placing a small, gentle kiss on my forehead, silently left as quickly  
  
as she had entered. Once again, I was alone with the merciless nymph   
  
of sorrow, sinister because of her intangibility, she who I could only   
  
face by myself.  
  
As I had sat there and wept, spilling out whatever was left of my heart,   
  
everything had started to fall into place, a jigsaw puzzle of lies and   
  
deception. The sudden disappearances, the pallor of his face that   
  
morning when I caught him unawares, the reluctance to speak of his past-   
  
it all made such hideously perfect sense, and the truth had set me free.  
  
Free of love, free of happiness, free of everything that truly mattered.  
  
"There's no such thing as love..."  
  
I don't remember how I managed to pick myself up and leave that room-  
  
that room I felt I could never enter again, the hallowed room that   
  
saw the most wrenching, destructive moments of my life.  
  
And yet somehow, I was in my own bed later that night, in a restless   
  
sleep. My eyelashes still gleamed with the cruel shine that tears   
  
always seem to leave behind.  
  
*I walk, dragging him with me...it is pouring, and my sight is   
  
completely blurred for the drops that fill my eyes...we have to get   
  
there, have to find them, for with them is safety, warmth, laughter   
  
and light. But how impossible, how far away they are! Every step is   
  
the step of a tiny ant, trying to cross an endless chasm of rain, and   
  
cold that bites me without mercy. Cruel, strident laughter fills the   
  
air but I have to keep moving, have to keep hold of his hand, for   
  
without me, he would be lost. And losing him would mean losing myself,  
  
too. And that can't happen- they are waiting, who knows where, but   
  
they are waiting, and they have to be found. The laughter grows louder,  
  
more threatening as I tiredly, brokenly drag him behind me, barely   
  
having the energy to step around the endless trees, so tall, so dark,  
  
like stone walls. And then, there is a dull, thudding sound...I   
  
desperately try to forget it, keep moving, for if I stop, we die. But  
  
it becomes more insistent, more powerful, I scream...*  
  
She sat straight up, drops of hot, frightened sweat coursing down her   
  
face, tears smearing her already deadened eyes. The thudding, for it   
  
was very real, continued, and she stifled a terrified gasp with   
  
difficulty. It was coming from downstairs, sounded like someone were   
  
roughly pounding on the door. Her breath caught in her throat...but   
  
no, never, that was hoping for too much...hadn't she just learned the  
  
price to be paid for hoping?  
  
Fearing her thoughts would betray her further, she clutched her robe   
  
around her, and soundlessly ran down the hall, and carefully avoided  
  
the broken stair as she pattered down the staircase. Clearly everyone  
  
else was too sound asleep to have heard the noise from outside- no   
  
surprise, she thought grimly, since somehow her whole family and host  
  
of servants, with the exception of her and Luna, could sleep through  
  
the most violent thunderstorm- she knew, she'd seen it.  
  
With some trepidation, she turned the gleaming brass lock on the tall   
  
wood door, and opened it just a crack, past memories of a rather similar  
  
situation painfully filling her mind.   
  
Icy cold wind swept into the foyer- the potent, determined wind that   
  
only a snowstorm can bring. But this was lost on Serena, and all   
  
memories and thoughts fled when she saw what lay on the other side of  
  
the door. 


	7. Hazy Truths

Hey everyone! Well, here's the next chapter!! Sorry- it took a while to get this out, and it will be revised after my AMAZING editor/beta Sailor Europa is done with it, but this chap heralds the end of the first "volume" so to speak, and wraps up by coming up from the other side to meet the end of the previous chapter (you'll get it when you read it). That said, I want to send out a HUMONGOUS shoutout to my wonderful reviewers Wild hild, Chibi J-sama, hayleyserenity, crozo-bobo, Sun+Moon,Earth+Sky, Steelheartrose, A.O.Y.U., Lara1876, mhnbfkgj, dayfreshie, Transcendant Pig, Forever His, BeckyJoe3689, aqua, cyjj, and Leira1. Thank you all SO much---and please keep reading and reviewing- love you guys!  
  
*****  
  
He didn't even realize it, but suddenly he was outside in the biting cold, riding away on Storm, his cloak billowing in the wind. Impossible to tell if the pounding was that of the majestic black horse's hoofs on the powder-white ground, or maybe it was just that of his own heart, begging him to turn back.   
  
There was soft, fairy-like snow on every tall tree and bush, and the overall effect was one of delicate crystalline beauty, but this wondrous atmosphere was entirely lost on him.  
  
"You monster..."  
  
Everything was a blur inside his mind, which was always so perfectly clear and sharp. Now there was only a cloud- a looming, gray cloud that threatened to break at any moment, and let forth a torrent of rain, or was it tears?  
  
Tears...tears flowing down those frighteningly pale cheeks, so rosy and soft  
  
A little demon pricked his eyes from behind, making them sting painfully, but that didn't matter, the fiery hot ache in his eyes.  
  
Eyes so full of joy and mischief, now filled with only anguish and pain that made his own so small  
  
He had to forget...had to cast those limpid blue eyes, that porcelain face aside...forget it all. How was he going to explain to the king and the others that he couldn't ever return- that he had put the mission in jeopardy from sheer carelessness...in a moment of neglect such as he had never displayed in his life?   
  
He wasn't terribly worried about the task itself; after all, he had already obtained almost every piece of information needed to make his conclusions, and he was perfectly sure that Lord Tsukino and his family were completely innocent.  
  
Innocent...and blue, sparkling with laughter, shining with unshed tears  
  
He shivered involuntarily.  
  
And he rode on, valiantly trying his best to not think at all, for thoughts of any sort were treachery.  
  
He absently looked down at Storm's thick, black mane and closed his eyes. He felt a pair of small, sweet hands combing passionately through his own ebony hair as he kissed the soft breath from pink...no!  
  
He had meant to tell her. God, yes, how badly he had wanted to. How could he not? A face that innocent and yet cutely impish could worm secrets from any flesh-and-blood creature, and the sweetness of the personality behind it- it was enough to drive a man to madness. He had sworn to himself that night that he would one day tell her...that night, which was now millions of miles away. He had waited, having made a promise that he would, yet not knowing when to carry it out; no moment seemed right, though he had waited for so long. It was too early, his mind said, day after day. And yet, how ironic, that a heartbeat later it was too late...  
  
But perhaps they were far better off like this, both of them. Yes, after all, emotions, passion and love (if indeed it existed, which was quite unlikely) were ephemeral. They'd end up living a lie their whole lives, or discover that their desire was fleeting, and feel empty and cheated forevermore.   
  
Emotions, passion, love- those were all just synonyms for weakness; he knew it, he'd been raised on it. The king was a firm believer in that principle, and had coldly brought up his only protégé with that same theory. There had been little laughter or warmth in Darien's life before he met the four who would become his brothers, but he was glad, for it had provided him with immense strength of mind and body, and the cool guile that ran as blood in his veins.   
  
The only thing he could truly count on was his duty; his life-long promise to protect king and country was the sole entity he could cling to, for it was the only thing that would last. What he felt...had felt...for Serena was undoubtedly beautiful, but it was only a matter of time before it would disappear, and what then?   
  
After all, his parents must have felt something for him when he was born, but clearly it hadn't been enough to keep them from abandoning him when he was barely a few months old. The king never pretended any such affection for him, yet he had dutifully brought him up, made him what he was now. No, love had nothing to do with it. It hadn't any meaning, just a bunch of romantic nonsense that people tried to warm their lonely souls with. Serena's words were just words.  
  
Then why do I feel so hollow? It's so cold, oh gods, it's so cold!   
  
He'd forgotten what it was, that icy emptiness inside that he'd been going around with for so long. Basking in the glow of an ethereal, artificial love, he'd let the wits on which he prided himself waltz right out of his head.   
  
But he needn't worry about that anymore, he laughed ironically to himself, as he dismounted and tied up Storm's reins. She had forbidden him the house, shut him out of her life forever, so he needn't worry about that dangerous, dizzying intoxication (which she called love) ever again...  
  
Intoxication? By god, now that he thought about it, that sounded awfully appealing!   
  
As was his instinct, he melted into the shadows that the tavern cast upon the ground under the moonlight, and stepped inside. After subtly, almost imperceptibly flashing the usual signal, he gracefully disappeared down the narrow staircase, and harshly shoved away the memory of a broken stair and a furious maiden that immediately sprang to his mind.  
  
Kunzite, Nephlyte and the king were sitting huddled together at the wooden table, speaking in low tones, and their heads shot up abruptly upon his entrance.   
  
"It's over," he said, walking over to the table, his voice hoarse and rough, "It's done. There's no tax fraud, they're innocent, and it's over."  
  
Upon seeing their startled expressions, he raked his hair back with a frustrated hand, and grasped something in the side pocket of his cloak.   
  
"You want details? Here!" he tossed the leather-bound journal onto the table.   
  
"Take it, read it, do whatever the hell you want with it, but don't ever, EVER let me see it again!" and the harsh, raw bitterness in his tone would have made any lesser man tremble.   
  
"Darien, what-" Nephlyte began slowly.   
  
"I don't wish to discuss it."   
  
Then, turning to the tavern-keeper who had discreetly come down to ask if the men needed anything, he remarked, "I'd like a glass of the strongest ale you've got."  
  
"Y-yes, sir, it'll be right down," the tavern-keeper said a little shakily, as he stumbled up the stairs with the stunted brutishness that became those of his ilk. There was a frightening inscrutability in the handsome face of that black-haired man downstairs, more so than usual, even. And he wanted a drink- not just any, but the 'strongest ale you've got.' That made no sense at all- he had always refused liquor of any kind during the many mysterious meetings in the basement. Oh well, so be it, it was none of his concern, the short, rotund little man resolved finally, as he sloshed a full mug of the frothy stuff in the green bottle. Aye, if he wanted the strong stuff, that's what he'd get.  
  
Darien took the heavy mug and sank into a chair with a complete lack of his usual lazy, arrogant grace; his clumsiness was most unsettling to Kunzite and Nephrite- he hadn't even started drinking yet, they thought, alarmed.  
  
To add to their growing unease, he started to chug down the strong, bitter ale as though it were water.  
  
It burned as it went down his throat- so bitterly sour it stung his mouth, but he welcomed it. As long as he could feel that, he'd know he hadn't gone mad. And far better to concentrate on that harsh, stinging sensation than the dull, and thus infinitely more frightening pain deep within him- that had to be forgotten, ignored.  
  
"Darien, why are you doing this? What's the matter with you?" Kunzite asked carefully, approaching the other man slowly, and trying to take the mug from the seemingly desperate grasp Darien had on its handle.   
  
His blue eyes flashed, and he snarled, "Kunzite, you are my best friend, and till today I've never raised my hand against you except in jest. But I warn you, if you so provoke me, I just might kill you tonight. STAY BACK." He emphasized none of the words, but there was a whiplash in his voice that caused the implacable Kunzite to flinch slightly.  
  
He soundlessly sat back down, clearly startled as he exchanged glances with an equally shocked Nephrite. They both looked to Diamond for guidance, but the King's eyes were fixed intently on the 19-year-old man he had raised, whose nature he knew as well as he knew his own. But not tonight.  
  
"Well, why are you just sitting there staring at me? Talk, discuss, continue with all the folderol we usually waste our time with here. You look rather stupid just gaping at me, you know...terribly stupid, in fact," Darien remarked, eyes half open as he smirked at his three companions. The King's face lost a little of its color and his eyes become somewhat colder, but he said nothing.   
  
"What's terribly stupid?" a voice asked from behind Darien. Nephrite, Kunzite and Diamond turned and looked up, but Darien remained seated with his back to the doorway.   
  
"Nothing you would understand," he replied lazily as Jadeite and Zoicite pulled chairs up to the round wooden table. His offhand dismissal surprised both the blond men; something was clearly amiss, but what was it?   
  
Jadeite tried to ignore his friend's curt, lazily insolent manner, considering it an aberration. This was how he treated those he disliked or had no respect for; but these, these were the people he was closest to in the world, except for...maybe that was it!  
  
"Something the matter, *cofflikeSerenacoff*?" He inquired, in an attempt at levity.  
  
At the mention of that name, Darien stopped dead. He set his mug down on the table with care.   
  
"Funny you should mention her," he said softly, his tone implying that somehow it was really not all that humorous.  
  
"Very funny, indeed," he continued, a wry smile playing upon his lips; the smile of a broken man who grins at the ironic joke that is life.   
  
"Funny in the, uh, 'accidentally falling on a knife and having it go right through your heart' type of funny, mind you, not quite so much the 'Ha ha, that's bloody funny!' way," he amended, with a drunken laugh.   
  
Jadeite and Kunzite looked across the table at each other, completely unnerved; never in the entire fourteen years that they had known him had he ever been less than perfectly calm, eloquent, and perfectly in control of the situation and his mind. What was happening to him?   
  
Crash!   
  
Shards of glass and drops of liquid went flying and four pairs of eyes widened in horror. None of them had even realized it, but Darien's grip around his mug had been intensifying tenuously, and finally his powerful hand had crushed the mug in his hand entirely, sending the glass and its contents into the air. As for his hand, it was covered in blood, and there were tiny pieces of glass embedded in it.   
  
Zoicite, Nephrite, Kunzite and Jadeite cursed vehemently as they sprung into action. Zoicite swore yet again with even more fervor as he accidentally overturned the small lamp that was their only light in the cellar; the little room was suddenly steeped in darkness.  
  
The four men stumbled about in the dark, one trying to summon for the tavern keeper, another attempting to find something with which to clean up the mess of glass, ale and blood, another trying to light a candle in the pitch-black darkness.   
  
And as the others frantically tried to provide light and clean up his wounds and the mess on the table and floor, Darien remained seated, staring blankly at his hand as ale seeped into the amazingly painful wounds, and blood streamed out of the cuts in his right palm, trailing down his arm in long crimson streaks. He had not yet made a move or, indeed, a sound of any kind, when before he had always been the first one to carefully assess any situation and coolly, silently implement the quickest, most effective solution.  
  
Yet there was another figure, too, who made no move to clean up the mess, provide light, or help the wounded man. He quietly slipped out of the room and out of the tavern, unnoticed by any of the others in the darkness.   
  
He had made his decision.  
  
Soon, light had been restored to the small room, the mess of glass and ale cleaned up, and Darien was absently holding an old rag to the persistently bleeding wound in his palm. The other four sat around him, more or less relieved but still wary of any further explosions from Darien's direction. They did not have to wait long.  
  
He gave a raucous, harsh laugh as though something amused him greatly. He had called for another ale, despite his friends' panicked expressions, and now took a long swig from the mug.  
  
"What the hell?" he said now, shaking with silent laughter as he set it on the table. They all tensed and leaned forward slightly, prepared to listen to every word.   
  
"What the hell brought this on?" he swallowed another mouthful and relished the burn that matched that of his hand, and for that matter, of his heart...  
  
"What is her problem anyway, huh? What was I doing to do? Just say 'I'm sorry, Serena, but I'm a spy... a bloody awful one at that," he laughed harshly, drunkenly again without humor, "yet that's what I am. That's the only reason I'm here, only...only...," he lost his train of thought, and stared blankly into the wall for a few moments. There was a little silence. Then he stood abruptly, staggering a little as he took his mug and walked across the tiny floor space.  
  
"So I can't love you....and even, even if I could I couldn't, I don't know how...not that there's anything to know, of course...you can't know something that doesn't exist."  
  
He finished the remaining liquid in his mug and shouted for some more. Jadeite rose to protest, but a warning look from Kunzite made him sit down again. The tavern keeper came rushing down and ran back up the stairs just as quickly with the empty mug to get more. Good god, what was going ON tonight?  
  
"Because it really doesn't exist," Darien continued as though there had been no interruption. "You know that, right? That it simply doesn't exist??" he demanded suddenly of Zoicite, pulling him out of the chair by his collar. The bewildered man, as brilliant as he was, had no idea what his dark-haired friend was talking about in that slurred, hazy voice, but the frightening gleam in those eyes made him simply nod dazedly. Darien seemed satisfied by this response, and released him.  
  
"Hate, yes, but love...NEVER...so it's- it's safe now, because she hates me, and that's real," he had stumbled over to the small window and it seemed as though he was speaking to the moon, his back turned to the concerned, apprehensive faces of his friends.   
  
Somewhere, in the far recesses of his mind that remained yet untouched by the alcohol, he knew he was making a fool of himself; knew, and was disgusted. But at least this way, with his face to the window, he could preserve what remained of his dignity- they wouldn't see the warm, salty tear that slowly fell down his broad, tanned cheek. The tear that had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the deep, painful cuts in his right hand; the tear that was followed by more, all acidic, burning reminders of...  
  
He straightened, wiped the moisture from his face with a weary arm, and turned.  
  
"So now I'm safe, she's safe, and maybe, maybe not tonight...now, but she'll be happy...it takes so little to make her happy...she'll be happy, complete, perfect someday...now I'm gone."  
  
He unsteadily walked back towards the table, and sank once again into a chair as the tavern keeper returned with another couple of mugs and a full decanter of ale. Darien saluted him clumsily with a half-smile as the short man stumbled back upstairs. He awkwardly sloshed the liquid into a mug and gulped some more down as his friends exchanged agonized glances once again; for perhaps the first time in their lives, they were powerless to help, powerless to do anything save watch as their best friend, their brother drowned himself in liquor.  
  
"And besides, they're all the same," the handsome man with now inflamed, bloodshot eyes continued, inconsequently, "she's just like 'vry other...bubbly, giggly...blonde...pretty girl- so are the rest. Charm- well I suppose they've all got it, though Jed here would know more about that than me!" he chuckled as he clumsily slapped the other man on the back with surprising force.  
  
"Yes sir, all the same..." his voice growing more and more slurred, "just I was forced into close...close stalls? No...no, tha's not right...close quarters! Ah, tha's it! Just I was forced into close quarters with this...this particular...Serena."  
  
His eyes closed and for a brief moment, he left them completely, alone in his own dark universe of memories, pain and everlasting loneliness. Then the bloodshot eyes opened once more, and he carefully rose from his seat, trying to keep from falling over.  
  
"It's been a great pleasure, gentlemen, but I'm 'fraid I must bid you farewell. So, farewell," he gave a mocking bow, turned, and wobbled over to the stairs.   
  
"Darien, where are you going?" Kunzite rose as well, alarmed, though he struggled to keep his voice level.   
  
"Ah, shut up Kunz, don't think you always know what's best for me...no one knows what's best from me...hell, not even I know what's best for me," Darien replied, smirking as he jabbed a finger into his own chest for emphasis. Once again, he turned and staggered up the narrow steps.  
  
"Shit!" Jadeite and Nephrite cursed simultaneously. They all ran after him, for while he was roaringly drunk, Darien was still about as fast on his feet as a man could be.   
  
"Darien, you aren't in your right mind!" Jadeite yelled out warningly once they were outside. He struggled to block the other man from the tall black horse he was trying to mount, but was shoved out of the way with a force that sent him falling back towards the gravel.  
  
"Maybe not, but then, I haven't been for a good while, have I?" he sarcastically saluted them once more and rode off.  
  
Jadeite was about to follow, but a hand on his arm stopped him.  
  
"He's going off on Crescent Moon Road, Jed! Don't you see? He wants- he needs to go fix things with Serena, though he doesn't even realize it! I don't think he has the faintest idea what he's doing or where he's going...but that's where his instinct is taking him. Let him be," Zoicite advised him calmly.   
  
"Zoicite is correct, Jed," Kunzite said, "The best thing we can do is stay out of his way. Let him do what he needs to do, once he figures out what that is," he murmured the last part quietly, almost to himself.   
  
And with that, they went their separate ways, back to the Scarletvale estates, and the women they were growing to love. But one man was still not satisfied, and after going about a mile along Hikawa Lane, he turned back around, and his horse galloped in the icy snow back towards the Crossroads tavern. Something just wasn't right- his instincts had never been wrong, and by God, he knew something wasn't right. He only hoped he wasn't too late.  
  
*****  
  
It had started to snow again, as though there wasn't enough icy whiteness covering the ground already. He slowed Storm to a gentle gallop. The alcohol's effects were still in full force- no surprise, considering that he had taken in about eight full shots of ale- or was it more?   
  
Ah, who knew, who cared? Ironic, that the image of that sweet, tear-streaked face was what had made him start chugging the stuff down in the first place, and now that was the only thing that his poor, mixed-up brain could even focus on. Those eyes- god, those eyes! Would they never cease being a red-hot brand on his head, wiping out all else?  
  
He rode along, gazing at the bleak sameness that surrounded him, that covered every tree, every single entity in sight; he gazed, and yet he saw none of it. The ice that fell persistently on his shoulders, on his head, was bitingly cold, but he was uncaring. The icy daggers of cold easily penetrated his cloak and shirt, rendering his body completely numb, but he felt nothing. Whatever cold he felt was inside, impossible to tell if it was because of the snow that just kept falling, or something else.   
  
The ice fell on his hands, and melted into freezing water that seeped through the thin makeshift bandage around his bleeding palm. The cold gnawed at the cuts until it seemed as though his hand would explode from raw pain, but it didn't matter. He was just temporarily residing in this aching, cold body; it was distinct, unconnected, detached from HIM.   
  
He looked up then, and in the distance there were black shadows, and as they neared, he could see that there were six of them. Six black shadow riders that seemed to be coming closer and closer, although it was hard to tell in the raging, persistent white blizzard that obscured everything.  
  
But no, they were definitely there. Above the din of falling snow and wind that furiously rushed through his ice-covered ebony hair, he heard the muted pounding of hoofs on snow, and the riders came closer...closer  
  
Something was wrong...dizzy and disoriented as he was, he knew inside that something was terribly wrong, and this instinct grew as they came closer and closer...much too close...  
  
*****  
  
Gods, he would never forgive himself if he were too late, he thought as he raced forward, fiercely riding against the wind along Crescent Moon Road. He'd wanted to get back to Sacred Flame, to Raye, tell her the truth while he still had the chance, hadn't even thought of...until now. But no matter, there wasn't any point in regretting it.   
  
He looked for hoof prints, footprints, anything, even- dare he think it? - blood, to tell him that his dearest friend was ahead. But the snow, the cursed whiteness that drowned out everything, covered any possible signs of Darien's presence there. He rode on.  
  
Then his ever-sharp, alert ears caught a faint sound in the distance. What was that? The fury of the snowstorm made it too indistinct to be identified. He rode faster.   
  
Something WAS going on up ahead...something-- violent.  
  
He spurred the horse on even more urgently. As he neared the scene he had vaguely observed from the distance, he witnessed with growing horror just what that violent something was.  
  
Without stopping, without breathing, without thinking, he leapt off the horse and did what came naturally. Five minutes later, four bodies had one by one painfully, painstakingly joined the two dead already buried in the snow.  
  
"Gods, Darien! What...how...what the hell?! What the hell?!" he whispered furiously, frantically. As he leaned over his friend's motionless figure in the snow, he went cold all over. Grabbing the still man's wrist, he felt desperately for a pulse. Yes, it was there; so terribly faint, barely present, but it was there! Thank all the gods, he was still alive-- somehow. How could a man bleed so much, withstand such cold, and remain alive?  
  
He closely examined the wounds he had glanced over before, when there hadn't been any time to pause. So much blood! His shirt was torn, and there was a horrible wound in his abdomen, where a knife had stabbed him; warm, crimson blood flowed in a stream onto the delicate, pure white snow. A gash was open on his forehead, marring his perfect features, his lip bled profusely, bruises were already forming on the upper part of his hard, lean chest- god only knew what weapon had created those. God, how was he still alive?  
  
No time to think of that now, it only mattered that he was. But where to take him? He briefly debated taking him back to Raye's, where the raven-haired priestess would be only too happy to heal her best friend's love...or past love...as was her nature. But no, Sacred Flame was too far away. The nearest place that he could think of was...  
  
With some effort, he lifted the other man's broken body onto Storm, tied the horse's reins to his own, and rode carefully but quickly, so as not to injure his friend even further. But they had to be quick, for he didn't know how long before life would leave the ebony-haired man's body.  
  
He rode steadily and cautiously to Lunaria, where it had all begun.  
  
*****  
  
Please send all questions, comments, flames and fluff to priyajasmine@hotmail.com 


	8. To Heal the Festering Wounds

She stood on the balcony and gazed out upon the green pastures, full of daisies, peaceful violets and roses, all contentedly basking in the sun. She wondered what it would be to share their simple happiness, to be carefree as the dandelions that swayed with the breeze.

It was difficult to remember the last time she had felt that way, and even if she could, it was terribly faint in comparison to the burden she now felt constantly. It had only been a month, and yet somehow she had spent an eternity walking on eggshells, swallowing passionate words that fought to the surface, shielding her emotions from the harsh light of inspection…how had it come to this?

Well, she knew the answer to that question, she thought ruefully, even if she lacked answers to any of the other hundred. Her hands clenched and she shuddered involuntarily as she remembered the sight that had made her stagger backward a little over a month ago.

Even now, she felt stunned into incredulity by the memory of that pale, unconscious young man outside the door, his face almost blue with cold, and crimson blood dripping down from his forehead. There was blood on his arm, which was slung around the shoulders of another blond man with haggard features, the man who had rescued him. For a moment, Serena simply blinked in shock, not even recognizing the lifeless man on the doorstep, whose blood was soaking through his snow-covered cape, everywhere.

And then…how could it be? Darien was so immovably strong, so powerful, so sharp, so carelessly, masterfully fixing any problem in his way, so utterly unlike this broken creature. She had desperately stifled a scream, and after a moment, wordlessly helped his friend Jadeite bring him into the house, upstairs to the room that he had stormed out of that very evening.

And as though someone else had possessed her body, she softly, calmly instructed a shaking Luna to bring her some towels, a basin of warm water, and any clean rags she might find in the kitchen. She carefully took off Darien's cape, shirt, and heavy boots, forcefully biting back a cry of horror at the deep wound in his chest, the gashes on his powerfully muscled arm and perfect face, now marked by a deathly pallor. Jadeite quietly aided her all the while, telling her of what had occurred in low tones.

"I rode there as fast as I could…wish to God I had been there sooner, they'd already gotten to him, six of them…stars above, who in HELL were they? Er, beg your pardon, Miss Tsukino…I fought off the ones who were still standing, cut them to ribbons, I didn't have any idea what I was doing, but I saw him lying there and something in me just snapped…god, who WERE those men? They didn't even take anything, they just seemed bent on killing him, but why? I brought him here as soon as the other two were dead; I'm sorry for the shock it caused you, it was the only place I could think of other than Raye's...Raye, damn, I've got to go to Raye…Miss Tsukino-Serena-"

Despite the growing fear bubbling inside her stomach, Serena was touched by this handsome man's devotion to her best friend…that sort of devotion was so precious, too precious…she gently told him to go the temple, and bring Raye back to Lunaria, so that he could be near his dearest friend, and she could enlist the support of hers.

She cleaned Darien's wounds, gently caressed his freezing chest and arms with a warm, wet cloth, tied bandages around the injuries on his arms, chest and forehead. She didn't know what to do for his burning fever, but Luna distractedly suggested that she feed him and apply cool cloths to his head every so often. The latter was reasonable, but how to feed him when he was completely unconscious? He refused to awaken even when she tried to shake him gently, and only the faint pulse in his wrist convinced her pounding heart that he was still alive. She changed his blood soaked bandages every half hour, and applied cool compresses to his pale face, all the while anxiously pacing about the room, waiting for Raye. Raye would know what to do, Raye was the only real, sturdy thing she could hold onto tonight, Raye was the only balance left in her world, a world gone frighteningly awry, Raye was the sweet, wise, perceptive angel who would fix everything, just as D…where was she?

In the distance, she heard the clicking of hooves on the ground, and pattered down the stairs in a flash, skipping over the broken stair by instinct. The sun was shyly peeking from behind the mountains, and the telltale pink radiance in the sky told her that dawn had arrived. She saw gleaming blond hair some distance away, and two horses stopped suddenly. One figure, probably male, jumped off, and easily assisted another, with impossibly long black hair, off her horse. They hurried up to the door and amidst hugs and kisses, Serena tearfully thanked her best friend for coming so soon. They all rushed up the stairs, and Raye made some preliminary observations as Serena told her and Jadeite about Darien's condition.

"Seems like the beginnings of pneumonia to me," Raye remarked, frowning, "He hasn't regained consciousness at all?" Gently touching his forehead with her small, slender hand, she remarked, "His fever is still dangerously high…hm, Serena, I normally don't do this, but I think it's the only way." Her friend's questioning, frightened glance made her continue.

"His defense against pain and illness is at its weakest right now, so he won't be able to heal quickly, and pneumonia compounded with wounds like these can be…well, I think this is the best way. Don't be frightened, I'm just going to aid the healing process," she said gently.

She closed her eyes and stood perfectly still beside Darien's form for a few minutes, before a golden, glowing aura slowly started to appear around her form. Slowly, as though in a trance, she put her shapely, delicate hands out and gently laid them on the uninjured part of Darien's bare chest. The golden glow about her grew brighter and slowly enveloped his body as well, and she simply stood there for a very long time, intensely concentrated, eyes closed. Slowly, Darien's pale face gained a little of its color back, and a peaceful expression slowly graced his features, much like the one on Raye's face.

Serena and Jadeite simply watched in amazement from their seats near the bed. Both knew of the life she led at the temple and were somewhat aware of the powers bestowed upon her as a result of her intense, daily meditations and prayer, but neither had realized how much power resided within her slight, graceful form. Her black hair seemed to fan out, her cheeks were flushed with rosy color, and the glow about her was so beautiful that it took Jadeite's breath away to gaze at her.

The glowing aura about the two raven-haired figures became even more pronounced for some minutes. Suddenly, Raye opened her eyes and, gasping for breath, broke her trance. The glow ebbed away into nothingness, and she panted, as though she had just run for miles and miles. Her normally clear purple eyes were wide and glassy, and her face was almost as pale as Darien's had been; she seemed as though she might faint.

"Raye…you…what did…are you alright?" Serena gasped out.

"Y-yes, I'm just fi…" she never finished, for her face became even more pale, and she collapsed into Jadeite's waiting arms. He easily gathered her petite form into his arms and Serena led him into her own room, where he carefully laid Raye's slim, lovely figure out on the bed, and tenderly brushed away strands of shining black hair from her face.

Serena was frightened all over again, yet something in the calm expression on her friend's sleeping face told her that Raye was indeed all right. Sure enough, she woke up an hour later, and told Serena and Jadeite that she was merely exhausted, for the process of healing Darien took great amounts of energy from her own body and transferred them to him so that his body's recuperation would become more effective and rapid. Both of them were moved by her complete willingness to sacrifice so much strength for a man she hardly knew, but the look in her eyes told them that such a sacrifice was nothing to her. She explained that she would continue to repeat this process every day and monitor his progress over the next month…

And that month was over now, Serena mused as she gazed out over the grassy field, but in some ways, everything was still as murky as it had been before. Certainly it had relieved them all to see Darien finally gain consciousness the day after Raye's arrival, but Jadeite was filled with consternation upon realizing that his friend remembered nothing about that night. He clearly recalled the infamous fight, as Serena could tell from the awkward uneasiness with which he now addressed her, but when Jadeite asked several mysterious questions about what had "happened" at the tavern, he seemed to recall nothing. For some reason, the blond man was very disturbed by this, and asked several times whether Darien remembered any of the things he had said that night, but the black-haired man responded with only a blank look.

Her parents had left soon after Raye's arrival; they had been wanting to visit Lady Irene's brother in England for a very long time, but had never gotten the chance; Serena, feigning illness said that she would rather remain at Lunaria. They hesitated, for ill or not, there was a young man in the house, and it would be very unseemly to leave their daughter alone with him, but with Luna and Raye promising to act as chaperones for the full duration of their absence, her parents agreed to leave Serena at Lunaria, taking Sammy with them.

And here they were now. Whenever she met his eyes, they both hurriedly looked away, she constantly hovered between too much tenderness as she brought him food and applied cool compresses to his forehead, and too much detached coldness as she ripped off old bandages to replace them with new ones. She sat there, day after day, gently caressing his forehead with cold cloths to reduce the fever, knowing that he was gazing at her intently for whatever reason, and wanting so much to know why. But she couldn't, for that would so easily lead her to ask so many other questions, and the last thing she wanted was to lose control. She had a tight leash on all emotion, and this was all that worked in her favor at the moment. Yet she couldn't say that she felt nothing as she watched him silently suffer, and be unable to comfort him for fear of his misreading her intent, as she tore off bandages and cleaned his wounds with painfully hot water, which Luna said would kill germs.

She knew he didn't care anything for her, that she was to him what a blade of grass was to a determined wind. She knew that his words on that night long ago spoke volumes of his true priorities in life, and that she simply wasn't one of them, nor would she ever be. She was trying to come to terms with that, but how could she? How could she, when most of her day was spent nursing him, being within five feet of him all the time, and thus being constantly subjected to his wan smiles, amusing remarks, and all that had attracted her to him in the first place? She tried to speak to him no more than was strictly necessary, tried to bite back any feeling that might accompany her words when he gently inquired about her own health every so often, tried to suppress her admiration for his ability to withstand so much pain without more than a slight grimace on his face. It was working, it seemed sometimes, and she was growing to not care for him anymore, and yet it was failing, just as she had always known it would.

And to accompany all this was the seething jealousy that was so close to the surface these days, the burning envy that she could not admit even to herself. After Jadeite returned to Sacred Flame Hill to take over Raye's responsibilities there, Darien and Raye took to one another very quickly. Upon finding out what an essential role Raye was playing his recovery, Darien was full of gratitude, and their personalities were so well-matched that Serena often sardonically wondered whether one had dreamed the other into existence. Granted, Raye had a temper that she was far less capable of controlling than Darien was, and Darien's tendencies to distance himself from those around him were much stronger than Raye's.

But both were fond of making sarcastic remarks that were tempered with a self-mocking quality, both were often quiet, contemplative, always preferring to remain independent and unattached to others as far as possible, and both were capable of extraordinary affection and extraordinary coldness. Serena cynically told herself that they differed here in the last as well, for Raye's warmth and affection were genuine, which could hardly be said of Darien. Raye was always the first to read any change in her friends' emotions and the first to proffer vital advice for any dilemma, and Darien possessed a disarming ability to get to the heart of any problem within a matter of minutes.

And so it followed that the reserved, amazingly handsome nineteen-year old man was immediately charmed by a quiet, perceptive beauty four years his junior, who spent a half-hour healing him every afternoon with her mystical powers. Kindred spirit warmed to kindred spirit and many happy mornings and evenings were spent laughing, teasing, and arguing about every topic under the sun. There was an easy banter that never ceased between the two, and each thoroughly enjoyed the other's company. Darien wasn't blind to Raye's exotic beauty, and yet he might have been just as grateful for a companion without her lovely, dusky skin, huge purple eyes and endless ebony hair, for he welcomed any sort of distraction, anything to divert him from the thoughts that haunted even his dreams.

The obvious mourning in those beautiful blue eyes was occasionally almost too much to bear, all the more so because he didn't even understand why it was there. He knew that even if Serena had cared for him before, she couldn't possibly possess such feelings anymore, especially in light of what had happened between them that night- the night that he tried to banish from his memory without success. Yet she barely spoke to him, and often stared into space, looking lost and faraway, in a world that only she knew. He asked after her health not just to make conversation (for somehow there was really nothing else for them to talk about anymore) but also in hopes that maybe she would say something to set his mind at ease, to convince him that she wasn't tormented as he was.

He didn't care for her- at least, not nearly as much as she had professed to care for him- and he certainly wasn't deserving of such devotion on her part. He felt guilty to be the unworthy recipient of another's concern and attraction (not love, he told himself), and all that could set him at ease was to know that she was all right, that he hadn't hurt her, that she hadn't cared enough for his actions to cause her pain. Yet his inquiries about her well being were met with neat, brief replies, and she usually didn't even bother to look at him when she gave her characteristic response of, "I'm quite well," or "Just fine, thank you." He often pretended to be asleep when she came in to put cold, wet cloths on his head, or redo the dressing around his chest, just to avoid having to look at her, or speak yet another meaningless pleasantry just to fill the empty space. His trust in her had disappeared the night she had read the journal, and he had realized that he really didn't care about her _that _much, yet he couldn't help but miss their constant arguments, and the furious expression on her blushing face when he taunted her.

Thus, Raye was a wonderful friend to have- he could tease her, and pretend that the purple eyes that snapped with mock-fury were cerulean blue, and that the sharp replies came from lips that possessed more pink than red. Yet, as Darien soon realized, Raye wasn't simply a stand-in for a certain other amusing companion, but someone he had truly grown to care for. She was so like him that he often wondered if perhaps she could be his younger sister, perhaps lost long ago, but knew that was impossible. Her rare, musical laughter warmed his tired, disillusioned soul, the fire in her sparkling eyes strengthened him with its fervor, and he found himself slowly opening up to the most unlikely of people, a 15-year-old girl who had spent most of her life alone, in prayer and meditation. He often found himself grinning at the clash between her sweet innocence and remarkable maturity, and he could share her contemplative silences without any awkwardness at all.

Jadeite's deep attraction to this gorgeous young woman had not been lost on him at all, and Darien often wondered about the agonized glance she had given him at their first meeting during the king's ball months before. When he subtly alluded to her undefined relationship with Jed one afternoon, Raye found herself slowly pouring out a story that no one, save Serena, had ever heard before. Darien had not known the tenderness he was capable of, and yet somehow he found himself cradling her shaking form on the bed, holding her tenderly with his good arm as she sobbed. She wept softly against him, trying valiantly to keep the tears from falling, as she told him about Patrick, the young man she had met through Mina, the man she had foolishly, unthinkingly, given her heart to only to have her love ignored and finally rejected.

She told him nostalgically, through both funny and sad memories, about Patrick's not-so-handsome face that took her breath away when he smiled, his amazing intelligence, his unfailing sense of humor, his engaging, effortless charm that mesmerized her and so many others with its carelessness, his secret, intimate grin that she felt belonged to her, his inability to comprehend her feelings for him, his charisma, his insensitivity, his wit, his apathy to others' feelings. She told Darien, who she had come to look upon as a beloved brother, how in the end, Patrick had left their several years of friendship (and more, she thought) behind him without a care. He had made her what she was, she told Darien, he had taught her the power of witty replies, the fun of silly faces and ridiculous wagers, just as he had unknowingly taught her the power and pain of unrequited love. He had walked out of her life so long ago, and had taken the glow within her along with him, a glow that she didn't think she could ever retain, not even for Jed.

Darien held her close to him as she cried, years worth of pent-up emotion flooding out within an hour; he soothed her with wordless murmurs and caressed her tumbled hair till she fell into an exhausted sleep. He was stunned by how similar their stories were- the abandonment, the lack of familial warmth (he had told her the truth about his lifetime as an orphan, just as she told him about her lonely life since the death of her beloved grandfather a few years before). And in the end, he thought a little sadly, both their tales had yielded the same result- a strong reluctance, almost an inability, to grow close to other people. Then why had they opened up to each other? It was a complete mystery as to why two such reclusive individuals would reveal themselves to another just like them, and yet their differences and likenesses and some other intangible quality had brought them together- best friends. No, _soulmates_, he realized.

Then why wasn't he afraid? Why was he willing to yet _this _beautiful girl sneak into his heart and _know _him and not another? As she lay against his chest, fast asleep, he pondered this troubling question, and could come up with no answer. He wasn't in love with her, he knew that didn't even enter into the question, but he had grown to care for her deeply. Why bother, he finally decided, frustrated, none of it mattered anyway.

Just then, the door opened and he sat up, startled. Serena appeared in the doorway and her face, rosy from riding about the grounds on Flame, turned pale. She bit her lip as she took in the scene before her- Darien sitting up on the bed, his arm around the waist of Raye, who was asleep practically on top of him, her head on his chest. Before Darien could even explain their compromising position, Serena rushed out, closing the door behind her with a quiet slam.

Damn, he thought with a frustrated sigh, as if things could get any worse. Right on cue, Raye stirred and rose a little, yawning and stretching her arms out wide on either side of her. She turned and looked at him, smiling contentedly.

"Thank you for…listening Darien. I've never told anyone about, well, about Patrick except Serena, but you seemed like you would understand."

"I'm sorry you had to experience that kind of pain, Raye. No one deserves so much suffering, especially you. You are an _amazing_ girl and when Patrick left, he made the biggest mistake of his life. Someday he's going to realize just what he lost. Now, look here…" he said awkwardly, removing his arm from around her waist, "I-"

Raye laughed lightly, and replied, "Yes, I know. I've never been in such close contact with any man…except the one time when Patrick and I danced at—ugh, never mind," and her laugh was bittersweet. "I shouldn't have—well, I shouldn't have fallen asleep like this right next to you," she said, blushing, "someone could get the wrong idea."

Someone already did, he thought ruefully, but he decided not to say anything about Serena's appearance- no need to complicate things even further.

Sitting up on the edge of his bed as she always did, she smiled slyly and said, "Now, it's your turn to talk. What is there that is so bitter between you and Serena?"

"You…you notic- I mean, what are you talking about?" he answered, taken completely unawares on one of the few occasions of his life.

She raised her eyebrows as though it were completely obvious and replied, "Priestess! It's my job to notice, er, changes in the wind, shall we say?"

"Oh, right." He gave her a weak smile. "We had a, er, falling out."

"Well, _obviously_," she said impatiently, "a blind deaf mute could tell that much. I'm asking you what actually happened?"

Having grown used to Raye's often acerbic tone, he merely ignored it and gave her the basic details of his fight with Serena. She listened carefully, and suddenly all the tensions she had sensed building up made sense.

Being as emotionally intuitive as she was, Raye wasn't surprised by Darien's story. She had known Serena and her nature for so many years, and though she had known Darien for only a month, she felt as though she knew him just as well, probably because his instincts seemed to echo her own in so many ways. She keenly perceived the sharp contrasts in their personalities, and understood how all those differences had finally culminated in their clash that night. She and Serena were just about as different as Serena and Darien were, but because they were best friends, they were more honest and open with one another, and worked out their differences as they came along, even in the form of seemingly superficial arguments. Darien, however, being even more of the cold, "strong and silent" type than Raye, had made this type of complete openness almost impossible.

Serena's picking up and reading Darien's journal was characteristic of her impetuous, carefree nature, just as the journal itself exemplified Darien's cool, methodical, duty-bound manner, and of course Darien's walking out wasn't because Serena told him to, but because he had been forced to choose between emotion and duty, and had made the choice most obvious for someone like him. Sure, the pair had argued for months before they admitted their 'feelings' for one another, Raye thought, but those were trivial, light arguments pursued just for the sake of arguing and keeping the other at a distance.

Serena and Darien had never really been friends, and thus had never acknowledged and ironed out the differences between them, with the honesty that only friendship can possess. They had jumped straight from avowed opponents, in a silly battle between two headstrong people, to romantic lovebirds. Couple this lack of comprehension of each other's true natures with Serena's too-quick decision that she loved him and Darien's inability to admit the depth of his feelings for Serena, and it was no wonder that their relationship had encountered such a disaster soon after its inception.

It didn't take Raye very long to comprehend her friends' problem, but this was because years of contemplation, meditation and solitude had taught her soul many lessons. She was usually practical in dealing with day-to-day affairs, but her experience with Patrick had made her realize that when it truly mattered, emotion was her defining factor, and she thought with her heart, not her mind. This bestowed her with the power to understand other people's motivations, desires and deepest feelings.

The problem here however, she recognized very quickly, was that while she understood what was lacking between Darien and Serena, _they hadn't realized it themselves_. It would mean nothing, she thought with amazing perception, if I tell them that they don't understand each other, that Serena can't decide so rapidly that she loves him when she really doesn't know all of him, and that Darien underestimates his own ability to feel, to love other people, especially her. It will mean absolutely nothing; they must learn for themselves- it may hurt, but they are no strangers to pain, and it may take forever, but time isn't their enemy, it can only be their friend.

So she listened to Darien's story, and when he was finished, she said solemnly, "I'm sorry, Darien," and he could tell by the depth of expression in her dark violet eyes that she meant it.

After that, she avoided spending too much time with him, and made sure she was never as comfortably affectionate with him as she had been before. He was a little hurt by this change, but figured that it was for the better, because the pained expression in Serena's eyes, which she always tried to hide, seemed to reside there less often. It never occurred to him that Raye had changed her manner for this very reason.

And when Serena broke down every so often, within the privacy of her own room, Raye was always there to hold her, soothe her, gently wipe away her tears, listen to her incoherent half-sentences about how she had trusted him, how she had foolishly given herself to him, what a black-hearted wretch he was, and how she still cared for said wretch, though she didn't know why. Raye was silent through all of these episodes, always listening to her sobbing friend's cries and the words that laced them together, never speaking other than to encouragingly murmur, "It's all right, Serena, I'm here, let it all out, I'm not going anywhere."

It saddened her that while her healing powers were causing visible improvement in Darien's condition every day (he was now able to walk around the room without feeling faint), she was powerless to reduce Serena's pain, for against suffering of an emotional nature she was nearly powerless. The most she could do was administer a tonic she had created herself out of herbs on Sacred Hill, which would allow Serena to sleep dreamlessly and thus, let her awaken feeling far more relaxed and peaceful.

Concerned as she was for her friends, she failed to notice the toll that her healing and constant work were taking on her own health. Her face was paler and more drawn even hours after a healing session, and she felt weaker when she woke up in the mornings. Finally, at Darien's insistence, she reduced their healing time to only fifteen minutes each afternoon, as his health was far better now, and as he said, he did not want to overtax her, especially as it was entirely unwarranted.

One night, as she finished her evening meal, she remarked, "You know, I think I'd like to take an evening walk. I want to learn once again the secrets of the moonlight."

Serena simply stared, for her friend's strange, often dreamy way of speaking still surprised her sometimes. For someone who could be so cutely abrupt and impatient, Raye was certainly a puzzle when she said things like this.

As she rose from the dining table, Darien, who was now strong enough to join them for dinner downstairs, stopped her. "I think the, er, 'secrets of the moonlight' can wait, Raye," he said, unable to keep a slightly mocking intonation from his voice. "You're looking a bit pale tonight, why don't you just go onto bed. You need rest."

"Darien Shields, are you telling me I can't go for a walk if I damn well please?" Raye asked, her eyes blazing as she rose from her seat. Serena felt another temper tantrum coming, and eased back in her chair to watch the show.

"Yes, Raye Hino, that is exactly what I am telling you," he replied calmly, his expression not changing at all, although his mouth had turned up slightly at one corner in dark amusement.

"Well, if that's what you want, Darien," she replied sweetly, and went upstairs. Serena was stunned beyond belief. Had Raye just complied with Darien's order? Good god, that girl must _really _be ill, or else she was plotting something. With her, it could really be either one.

Darien, completely unperturbed, remarked amusedly, "You know, I think with her, it's just the matter of the right handling. Regular little spitfire, that one," he smiled, shaking his head.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you would know all about that," Serena replied mockingly, but the usual hint of good-natured humor was gone, making her sound rather bitter. "Now if you will excuse me, I'd like to retire as well, with your permission of course."

He simply nodded, a little dazed, and with that, she rose, a cold expression on her sweet face, and disappeared up the stairs as Raye had a few moments before.

He went into the library and read for a while, but when he found himself nodding off, went up to bed, Serena's bitter words oddly echoing in his mind. Darkness surrounding him, he slowly fell asleep, and as the hours passed, all was quiet.

Then, shattering the silence, a terrified scream reverberated throughout the mansion.

Serena, Luna and Darien awakened with a jolt and rushed out of their respective rooms, hearts pounding as they raced across the hall to Raye's bedroom.

Luna threw open the door and they all stopped dead in the doorway. Raye was sitting up in bed breathing heavily, her paper-white face and nightgown drenched in sweat, eyes wide with horror.

"The king…the queen," she gasped, "They…they were murdered! Darien, you…you were…"

She collapsed in a dead faint.


	9. Interlude

So this is pretty much exactly what the chapter heading says it is- An Interlude. It's been a long time since I updated, I know- more reasons than I can name for that...the main one being, COLLEGE. And the accompanying time commitment. To answer a question I have been asked several times now, YES, I do want to finish this story, as I know exactly what it supposed to happen from here to the end...my only issue is exactly HOW it's all going to happen. I've kind offallen out of the SM fandom, also, and taken a very active interest in the HP fandom- specifically the Hermione/Draco ship (lol, don't ask, my mind works in strange ways) so I feel even more alienated from this story. Also, because of my more than a year-long hiatus, I'm kind of out-of-sorts where this story is concerned, and while I still remember what was supposed to happen, the methods I was going to employ to make those things happen seem very flimsy now, and so until I iron out all that stuff, this is all I've got- but it's substantial-- may not seem like it, but there is stuff going on here to think/wonder about...this interlude IS here for a reason, remember, it's not just filler...I assure you, I don't usually appreciate filler at all, and so I certainly wouldn't intentionally put in my own work. As to whether I will in fact finish this story or not...well, that has yetto be determined.With summer coming, and the ensuing boredom that usually accompanies it, there's a greater likelihood I will continue this, but nothing's certain- it's mostly contingent on 1) If I can figure out this main obstacle that's completely preventing me from writing the next chapter, 2) If I can actively re-interest myself in the S-D romance long enough to see this thing through to completion. Hopefully it'll happen, but there's a chance it won't. That said, here is the poem that ties this whole story together...enjoy! And tell me how you like it too!

_I won't tell you not to love some vagabond, _

_but for the sake of your soul, don't ever trust one…_

_Neither thought nor understood _

_The first time my body wished, yearned_

_You must know every moment _

_the memory of me will make you burn_

_I'll keep a nightly vigil _

_And sleep will not come to you_

_My love, I speak only the truth._

_Beautiful stranger, my stranger, don't go and leave me _

_Wanderer, I beg you, keep your promise that is mine_

_Remember me, wrap memories of us in lavender_

_Don't forget me in the winds of time_

_What sickness of the heart is this?_

_It's punishment from heaven above_

_Though it be strewn with thorns or rosebuds_

_It is still that cursed road of love._

_Cut open my heart and look within_

_It bears in blood only your name_

_I dance within this fire of passion_

_The fire for which you were the flame._

_Beautiful stranger, my stranger, don't go and leave me_

_Wanderer, I beg you, keep your promise that is mine_

_Remember me, wrap memories of us in lavender_

_Don't forget me in the winds of time_

_It seems only those in love_

_Know what madness truly means_

_And indeed, you are within my sleep_

_The reflection of a thousand dreams_

_So cold, such a mystery are those,_

_The emotions you never seem to feel_

_Yet your eyes are filled with the _

_Scars of love, and they can never heal. _

_Beautiful stranger, my stranger, don't go and leave me _

_Wanderer, I beg you, keep your promise that is mine_

_Remember me, wrap memories of us in lavender_

_Don't forget me in the winds of time_

_It was you who grabbed my hand in jest_

_Now don't spare me, hold it, clasp it for life_

_Don't fly away, leaving only wispy memories_

_Lest I take for my lover a knife_

_Having cast me aside, what will _

_you do, where will you go?_

_Who will gather the broken pieces_

_of me, who will ever know?_

_Beautiful stranger, my stranger, don't go and leave me _

_Wanderer, I beg you, keep your promise that is mine_

_Remember me, wrap memories of us in lavender_

_Don't forget me in the winds of time _

_You swept into my life so suddenly,_

_A flower to mark the advent of spring_

_Then the season passed away, and you put_

_Endless tears in eyes that were laughing._

_The fate of lovers, after all, is _

_Loneliness, nothing more,_

_Desire's closest companion is loss_

_And together they've left me lying on the floor_

_Beautiful stranger, my stranger, don't go and leave me _

_Wanderer, I beg you, keep your promise that is mine_

_Remember me, wrap memories of us in lavender_

_Don't forget me in the winds of time…_


End file.
